


i want to say all those things that would be better unsaid

by aeneapsych



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek, Explicit Sexual Content, Kate is not in this fic, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 07:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeneapsych/pseuds/aeneapsych
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is a lonely professor who decides to call a phone sex line.</p><p>Stiles is a poor grad student who needs to make a living somehow.</p><p>"One night stands were never this good. Hell, his previous relationships were never this good. Derek was so screwed, but right now he didn't care."</p>
            </blockquote>





	i want to say all those things that would be better unsaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepsychicclam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/gifts).



> My first friend in the Teen Wolf fandom was [Rachel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam), and this fic is for her. In addition to helping me get my confidence in writing and being a super supportive beta, she is also a truly wonderful person :) When we first started talking, she mentioned wanting to read a Sterek phone sex AU, and I promised I'd write it for her. So, here it is sweetie! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, my extreme gratitude to [BK](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ionsquare), who beta'd this for me. Thank you deary!!
> 
> Update: This has been translated into Chinese by the lovely [Sansan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansan) \- [here!](http://www.mtslash.com/thread-110667-1-1.html)

Grabbing the glass of Jack Daniel's, the amber liquid almost sloshing over the side as he collapsed into the mountain of pillows behind him, Derek swung his feet up onto the bed and settled back. He sighed after taking a sip, the liquid burning down his throat and warming his belly. Derek glanced at the nightstand to his phone, where he knew a number sat in his texts, taunting him. Earlier today he was talking with one of his colleagues, Erica, about how pitiful his sex life was recently and he jokingly mentioned being desperate enough to call a phone sex line. Erica Reyes, another Classics professor like Derek, responded in all seriousness and promptly texted him the number of a line she “vouched for,” whatever that meant.

Now that he was pleasantly buzzed and relaxed, calling the sex line didn't really seem like that bad of an idea. Derek picked up his phone and thumbed through his texts, scrolling down until he found his conversation with Erica. He hesitated a moment before pressing his thumb down on the highlighted number, then put the phone up to his ear. It was too bad he had never invested in one of those hands-free devices, he thought as the ring sounded in his ear. Derek's stomach flip-flopped when a voice spoke, an automated message asking for his preferences. Once the voice mentioned “men looking for men” Derek pulled the phone from his face and hit number four. He rolled over and grabbed his drink off the nightstand, took a quick sip and sputtered slightly when an enthusiastic female voice greeted him.

“Good evening, sir,” the operator said, a lilt in her voice grating on Derek's nerves. “Thank you for calling 'For a Good Time.’ We are ready and willing to meet your needs. What are you looking for tonight?”

Derek rolled his eyes at the cheesy rehearsed spiel and cleared his throat. “I would like to speak with someone – uh, another guy?” This was so awkward, he thought, he had no idea what to ask for. Obviously he wanted to have phone sex, wasn't that why he called this number? 

“Of course, sir,” the cheerful operator replied. “I can connect you with one of our highly experienced companions. Is there anyone in particular you would like to speak with, or is this your first time calling our service?” 

“First time,” Derek responded, annoyed when he felt a blush creep up his cheeks. 

“Fantastic!” she said enthusiastically. “We always love to hear from new callers. I have the perfect companion for you; he's great with first-timers. Can I let him know if there are any specific kinks or fetishes that you would like him to mention? Or anything you would prefer he not bring up?”

Derek's mind blanked. He hadn't expected them to ask if there was something specific he wanted, and he hated being put on the spot. 

“No, thank you. I'm not picky.” He winced, thinking that made him sound a bit lame.

The operator giggled. “No problem, sir. Now before I connect you, I'll need to collect your payment information, and provide you with a few rules.”

She asked for his basic personal information and credit card number, letting him know that the companion he spoke to wouldn't know any of it, and he could give them a fake name if he felt more comfortable. She also let him know that they had a website, and that some of their companions offered online chat and webcam services. Derek didn't know how he felt about a webcam session with a stranger, but the chat service piqued his interest; he always thought he was pretty good at expressing himself through writing. She also told him that if at any time the companion felt like they needed to end the call, for any reason, they were free to do so, and any charges up to that point would still apply. 

Finally the operator finished and connected Derek through, after letting him know he would be speaking with “Thomas.” Derek lied back against his pillows, heart racing as he listened to the hold music, fingers of his right hand toying with the drawstring on his pajama pants. The music stopped, and he inhaled sharply.

“Hi, this is Thomas,” a pleasantly masculine voice greeted Derek. “What's your name?”

“Der- " he stopped quickly, remembering he could give a fake name. “David. Hi, I'm David.”

“You've got a very sexy voice, David,” Thomas said, and Derek flushed even though he knew the guy was probably working off a script. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“A couple times, I guess,” Derek replied feebly. He was starting to think this might be a bad idea, he might be terrible at it, and he should hang up, after politely excusing him -

“Well I can't wait to hear how it sounds when you're screaming my name as you come,” Thomas said, his playful tone jarring Derek out of his self-inflicted wallowing. 

Derek's cock twitched and he gasped as his heart raced with excitement.

Thomas hummed, the sound going straight to Derek's dick. “And lemme guess, you're one of those strong silent types? No worries, David, I can go all night if you want me to.” Thomas chuckled at his own terrible double entendre.

“I'm not really sure what to do here,” Derek said. “I've never called one of these before.”

“Well, then you're lucky you got stuck with me,” Thomas said. “My coworkers call me the 'cherry popper,' because I'm so good at handling first time callers.” 

Derek groaned. “That's the worst nickname I've ever heard.”

Thomas laughed, loud and full, and Derek couldn't help but smile. 

“Yeah, I know. But it made you laugh, didn't it?”

“It did,” Derek admitted. If he forgot for a moment that he had called a phone sex line, Derek could easily imagine he was talking to a friend. Thomas made him feel comfortable, which he guessed was part of the job.

“So, I know this sounds cliché but,” Thomas began, “tell me what you're wearing.”

Derek sighed, looking down at his old thin t-shirt and flannel pants. “It's not very sexy, really. Only a t-shirt and some sleep pants. Do you read off a script?” He had to know, and he knew he probably wasn't supposed to ask things like that, he was supposed to maintain the illusion, but there was something about Thomas that made Derek lose his normal filter. 

Thomas chuckled. “Nah. Some do, but I found it made me sound like an idiot. I ask that, because I genuinely want to get a mental image in my head. What do you look like? In general, not like, specifics or anything, I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

Derek hesitated, but figured he could give a vague enough description. 

“Dark hair, full beard, around six feet tall, and light hazel eyes.” 

“Dude, you sound hot,” Thomas said.

“Are you supposed to call clients 'dude'?” Derek asked.

“It's part of my unusual charm,” Thomas replied. “And since you haven't asked me yet: brown hair, clean-shaven, kinda lanky, brown eyes. I’m about six feet, also.” 

“What are you wearing?” Derek asked. He had a fuzzy mental image and he wanted to try and complete it a bit more. 

“Uh, old jeans with holes in the knees, and a smile,” Thomas said, laughing. “Make your own assumptions for why my jeans have holes in them.”

Derek could think of a few, but his favorite was of Thomas on his knees in front of him, brown eyes under thick lashes turned up as he wrapped his lips around Derek's cock. A moan escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

“There we go, big guy,” Thomas said, his voice deepening slightly. “Tell me what you're thinking.” 

Derek licked his dry lips and tugged on the drawstring of his pants. 

“You on your knees in front of me, sucking my cock.” Derek slipped his hand into his briefs and wrapped his fingers around his hardening cock. 

“Oh, yeah,” Thomas agreed. “I'd hold you in place with my hands on your ass and lick a long wet stripe up your cock. Then, I'd wrap my lips and swallow you all the way down until you can feel my throat close around the tip of your dick. And I’d let you put your hands on my head, hold me down until I shake and you let me come up for air.”

Groaning, Derek tugged on his cock, imagining his fingers threaded through Thomas' hair, watching his eyes water as he held his breath. He bent his knees to get better leverage so he could fuck into his fist, rubbing his thumb into the pre-come to help ease the friction. 

“If you want,” Thomas continued, “I could relax my mouth, let you fuck my face. I fucking love that, you know, letting a guy use my mouth like that. It gets me so fucking hot. Tell me you'd do that for me, David.”

Derek breathed heavily into the phone before answering, feeling sweat begin to gather on his forehead. 

“I'd fuck your pretty little mouth until you choked. And I wouldn't let you touch yourself. You'd keep your hands behind your back.” He imagined this and heat pooled in his gut. His movements became more erratic as he dug his heels into the mattress.

“Ah, fuck, David,” Thomas said, his voice breaking. “I want you to come all over my face, mess me up. Please, David, please. I'm so fucking hard right now and I wanna hear you come.”

His back bowing, Derek came hard, a pillow falling over his face as he felt hot come splash onto his shirt, soaking through to his skin. He heard Thomas panting on the phone, unintelligible words mixed with curses. After a few moments of lying still and trying to catch his breath, Derek batted the pillow off his face with the back of his hand and grabbed a fistful of tissues to clean up. 

“Thomas?” Derek asked, his voice strained and tired. 

“Yeah, buddy,” Thomas replied, sounding just as tired. “I'm here; I'm still with you. You doin' okay?”

Derek swallowed and adjusted his pants, rolling over on his side. He pulled his knees up and held the phone between the pillow and his face so he could cross his arms. 

“Yeah, are you?”

“I'm pretty awesome right now, David,” Thomas replied. “Thank you.”

Derek laughed. “Shouldn't I be the one saying thanks?” Now that he was coming down from his orgasm-induced high, he was starting to remember that this wasn't someone he knew on the other line; Thomas was basically a stranger. But Thomas had a way about him; he made Derek feel so comfortable. It’s not what Derek expected at all, to be honest. 

“Can we do this again?” Derek asked.

Thomas cleared his throat. “Yeah, you can ask for me next time you call. If I'm not available they can let you know when a better time to call back would be.”

Derek hadn't thought about that, and the idea made his stomach twist in knots. Obviously this was a job for Thomas, if that was even his real name, and of course he talked to other clients. Even so, Derek wanted to talk to him again. 

“Okay, I'll do that.” Derek said finally.

“Hey,” Thomas said, voice soft. “I work week nights and during the day on Saturday. The best time to reach me is usually early evening, before it gets too busy.”

“Thanks,” Derek said, smiling a little. “I'll keep that in mind.”

“I really liked talking to you,” Thomas said. “And that's not a line or anything; I don't have to say that. I mean it. You're much nicer and way more chill than most of the guys that call.” 

Derek smiled and closed his eyes, making an appreciative noise. He remembered something the operator told him before she connected over. 

“Oh, do you do the online stuff too? Like the chat or whatever?” 

“Yeah, I do,” Thomas said. “But I prefer talking on the phone. Sometimes I do texting though; I think there is some info on the website about how that works. I usually only do it with clients that I speak with regularly though, since it can get kinda random and happen whenever, outside of my normal hours.”

Heart sinking, Derek frowned, thinking Thomas wouldn't want to do something like that with him yet. 

“Oh, okay, that's cool.”

“But I like you,” Thomas replied quickly, laughing softly. “Next time you call, tell the operator that you want to set that up, and she'll explain it to you.”

Excitement lit up inside Derek, and they spoke for a few moments longer, before finally hanging up. What had started out as a seemingly stupid idea to Derek was quickly turning into something possibly dangerous. While the logical part of his brain knew this was only a job, the more emotional and lonely part of Derek wanted to think that Thomas actually liked him, and maybe, somehow, he might be able to meet him sometime. He drifted off to sleep soon after, warm and content with thoughts of the fantasy building in his mind.

~~~~

A loud knock pounded on the door.

“Excuse me,” Derek said, giving his student an apologetic look as he got up from his desk to answer the door. He swung it open to reveal Stiles, one of the grad students in the Classics program, and also, possibly, Derek's worst nightmare.

Derek sighed heavily before Stiles could start off on one of his tirades and said, “Stiles, I'm in the middle of a conference with an undergrad. Whatever this is will have to wait.”

Stiles shook his head quickly and held his hands up in front of Derek's face. 

“Dr. Hale, this can't wait, seriously. If I don't submit my paper for that conference by the end of today they won't let me present. And as you know I _have_ to present or else I won't meet my requirements for -”

“Stiles,” Derek repeated. “How many times do I have to tell you to not leave everything until last minute? Neither I, nor any of the other professors here, can just drop everything to help you. Make an appointment like everyone else.” Stiles, who was in his last year of the program, was preparing his doctoral dissertation, which focused on the Ancient Roman foundation myth of Romulus and Remus. Part of the dissertation requirements called for the students to present at one major academic conference per year. Stiles was an amazing public speaker, Derek would give him that, but he was incredibly disorganized and usually didn't prepare many notes, instead choosing to pick a topic and lecture off the cuff. Derek found such a lack of preparation a bit sloppy, and somewhat risky. 

“Okay,” Stiles said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What time do you have today, then?” He looked up from his phone screen at Derek, eyes wide and hopeful, his pale cheeks flushed.

“None,” Derek replied, then turned back to face the waiting undergrad, gestured at her vaguely that he would only be a minute or so longer.

“What!” Stiles shouted. “I have to get this out today though.” The hand not holding his phone came up to tug at his already messy hair.

Derek shrugged. “Well you should have thought about that two months ago when you knew you'd be presenting.”

“I know, I just...” Stiles hung his head, shoulders slumped. “I've been working on it, okay? It’s a real, thought out paper and not just a few random notes. You were the one who influenced my topic, and you're an expert on it, and I really want your blessing on it before I submit it.” He looked up at Derek, and Derek felt his resolve crumble just a bit.

“I'm eating at the cafeteria for lunch,” Derek said, all thoughts of having a peaceful break by himself flying out the window. “Meet me there at noon and I'll talk with you then.”

A smile broke across Stiles' face, his brown eyes widening almost comically. 

“Thank you, Dr. Hale. You are so fucking awesome!” He whooped and ran off down the hall.

“Stiles...” Derek called after his fleeing form, wanting to tell him off for swearing but he didn't have the energy to try too hard. He went back into his office and closed the door behind him, apologizing again to his student as he sat back down to discuss her essay test.

~~~~

Derek stared up at the menu, trying to decide if he should get the soup today or that chicken salad he always likes. A sharp elbow dug into his ribs and he spun around to find Erica winking at him, a playful smile on her ruby red lips. 

“Hey, stud,” she teased as she pulled her wallet from her purse. “You look different today. Anything you want to tell me?”

“Not really,” Derek told her, refusing to play along. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction that he actually took her suggestion, much less that it turned out to be the best evening he'd had in ages.

“Yeah, sure,” Erica said as she bumped her shoulder into his, and the corners of his mouth seemed to pull up on their own. Erica was the closest thing he had to a best friend next to her husband, Boyd, who worked as one of the assistant coaches for the university's lacrosse team. 

“I'm going to get a burger,” Erica said, turning to face the long line across the cafeteria. “Meet you at our table, okay?” She started walking away and Derek had to catch her arm to stop her.

“Wait,” Derek said. “I have to meet with a student over lunch. I didn't have any other appointment times open and he needed to talk to me today.”

Erica scoffed. “Seriously? Who is it? Don't tell me it's that annoying Stilinski kid.” 

“Who else would it be?” Derek asked. “He's not that bad though, he just needs to get his shit together.” 

“Speak of the devil...” Erica murmured.

Derek turned around as Stiles came skidding up to them, backpack flying and shoes squeaking. 

“Hey, sorry I'm late,” Stiles said, breathing hard as he ran his fingers through sweat-dampened hair. “I was across campus and lost track of time. Oh, hey, Dr. Reyes.” Stiles beamed at Erica, his cheeks flushed.

“Stilinski,” Erica responded, raising her eyebrow at Stiles. She turned back to Derek. “I guess this is my cue. See you later, Hale.” Erica blew him a kiss before whipping her hair as she spun around, heading off towards the exit.

Stiles puffed his cheeks and exhaled loudly. “Wow, she's something isn't she? I had one of my first classes with her, and I almost dropped out the first week because she terrified me so much. Glad I stuck with it though, it ended up being one of my favorite classes.” 

“Erica's a great teacher,” Derek agreed. “You want to get your food so we can sit down and talk about your paper?” 

Stiles nodded and left to go get his food. Derek stood in line for a few minutes before finally being able to order, and then took his tray over to his regular table in the corner. Stiles sat down as Derek was picking up his sandwich and jarred the table with his knee, causing Derek's soup to spill onto his lap.

“Oh, shit!” Stiles exclaimed, standing up and grabbing a fistful of napkins. “I'm so sorry, Dr. Hale!” He hovered next to Derek awkwardly, hand full of napkins extended in front of him, seemingly unsure of how to help.

“It's okay, Stiles,” Derek said, gritting his teeth and trying to calm himself down so he didn't yell at the kid. It was like he had no control over his limbs. Stiles had always reminded Derek of a colt trying to learn how to walk. Sometimes it was a bit endearing but most of the time it was annoying, especially right now. “Just sit down; it's not the end of the world.” Derek took the offered napkins from Stiles and started to wipe the mess off his pants. Stiles wavered on his feet for a few moments before sitting back down, his head in his hands.

Derek felt bad, because Stiles was obviously stressed out, and he knew from personal experience that when you're stressed over something big, any little thing that goes wrong can send you over the edge. 

“Stiles, it's okay,” Derek said again, calmly, putting his hand on Stiles' forearm briefly. “Get your paper out, let me look over it.”

Stiles opened his bag and pulled out a thick stack of papers held together with a clip, the corners dog-earned and the edges frayed. He handed it over to Derek with a look of resignation.

They sat in relative silence as Derek read through Stiles' paper, pausing every once in a while to eat his sandwich or drink his soda. Out of the corner of his eye Derek could see Stiles nervously pick through his own food, not really eating it but rather pushing it around his plate. As Derek got to the end of the paper and set it aside, Stiles looked up at him suddenly, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Well?” Stiles asked. The table shook underneath Derek's elbows as Stiles fidgeted impatiently, his knee bumping into it as he bounced on his toes. 

“It's definitely more structured than what you usually prepare for your talks,” Derek said, and it was. Stiles was focusing on the variations of the myth that covered the twins' childhood, and Derek thought Stiles had brought up a few incredible arguments in his paper, some even Derek hadn't thought about before. “I think if you stick to a few main points of discussion, your talk will be very interesting. You might even piss a few people off.”

Stiles grinned and laughed, throwing his head back. Derek was immediately struck by how beautiful Stiles was when he laughed and his eyes lingered on the thin, fair skin of Stiles' neck, snapping his gaze to the empty plate in front of him as he realized what he was doing. He groaned inwardly at his slip, berating himself for ogling a student. It's not like Derek hadn't noticed that Stiles was attractive, in a subjective sense, it was that Derek made it a rule that he didn't get involved with students. There were too many triggers in Derek's past that made this impossible.

“You know how much I love to piss people off,” Stiles said, his smile still wide from Derek's assessment. “You don't think it's a bunch of rehashed garbage, though, right?”

Derek shook his head. “No quite the opposite, actually. There's some really great analysis in here.”

They spoke for a while longer about some of the details of Stiles' paper, and what Derek thought he should bring up as discussion points during his lecture. The conversation wound down and Derek checked his watch, noting that he had to leave in a few minutes in order to make it to his class on time. 

“So, any big plans tonight?” Stiles asked. He waggled his eyebrows in a mock suggestive manner at Derek. 

Surprised by the fairly personal question, Derek sat silent for a moment before answering. “Not really. I don't usually do much during the week except grade papers or tests. Usually I fall asleep in front of my TV.” And maybe tonight he'd call and try to talk with Thomas again, but he wasn't going to share that with Stiles.

Stiles nodded, chewing on his lip. “Yeah, I'm pretty boring during the week, too. I've got a part-time job, so between that and studying and writing, I don't have too much free time. But I try to go out on weekends, you know? I don't wanna be a total social pariah.” He laughed and fiddled with the drawstring on his hoodie before asking Derek, “Hey, a few of us are going out for drinks on Saturday night. Some of the professors come too, but I've never seen you there.”

“Ah, well, yeah,” Derek began, wondering how he could get out of this one without spilling his life story to Stiles. “I used to go, actually, when I was a student. But, uh, now I don't.” Derek knew his explanation was completely lame, but he didn't really feel like telling Stiles about the affair he had with one of his professors while he was in school that almost ended his academic career. Kate and Derek started dating near the end of his graduate program, after he took one of her classes. They kept their relationship secret, and at first Derek was happy but he soon started to realize that Kate was emotionally abusive. He tried to talk to her about how he felt, how unhappy he was, but she ignored him, called him names. She told him if she tried to break up with her that she would tell the Dean that he was fucking her to get good grades. She terrified him with her threats against his academic career and her insistence that she was the only one who could ever want him the way she did. Eventually, he went to one his other professors and told him what was happening; they got Kate fired but Derek's personal life and self-esteem had taken such a massive blow he still hadn't fully recovered from. Kate had always joined the students at the bar on Saturday nights, and Derek had too many painful memories of that place to ever want to go back.

Stiles looked disappointed at Derek's response. 

“Oh, yeah man, that's cool. I forgot you were a student here before you became a professor. But I get it, the students, we can get kinda loud and obnoxious, I barely want to hang out when everyone gets drunk.”

Derek didn't respond, checking his watch again in order to hide his discomfort. 

“Look, I've got to head out if I don't want to be late to my class. Email me if you have any other questions on your paper, but I think you're in good shape to turn it in.” Derek smiled briefly at Stiles before grabbing his bag and standing up. 

Stiles scrambled out of his chair and stuck out his hand. 

“Thanks, Dr. Hale. I really appreciate it.”

Derek grasped his hand and shook it, Stiles' fingers warm in Derek's grip. He left Stiles and headed back to the Classics building. The rest of the day went by in a fog; the reminder of Kate made Derek think of how shitty his personal life was right now, but the thought of talking to Thomas later made his dark thoughts a bit brighter. He hoped it didn't make him look too desperate to be calling again the very next night, but he guessed that getting attached to a phone sex operator was in and of itself a bit desperate. Derek was beyond caring though; if it made him happy and it wasn't harming anyone, he figured he should give himself this one thing. 

~~~~

Derek dropped his keys in the bowl by the front door and slung his bag over the back of a chair at his kitchen table. He shuffled over to the fridge and grabbed the Tupperware of leftover pasta from the other night and a bottle of beer. He walked into the living room and fell onto the couch where he ate his cold pasta in front of the TV, volume low as an episode of The Simpsons played while he thought about what he would ask Thomas tonight. Last time Thomas sort of prompted him into their conversation, but tonight Derek was feeling bold, and he wanted to ask Thomas for something specific. He racked his brain, trying to remember his favorite fantasies. It had been a long time since Derek had been fucked, since the only people he had slept with since he broke up with Kate had always incorrectly assumed he only topped, because of how he looked. Derek didn't have a preference one way or the other, but he missed the feeling of someone inside him, how vulnerable and cared for it could make him feel. He finished eating and went to the kitchen to clean up, grabbing another beer, making up his mind that he would ask Thomas to fuck him, or rather _describe_ fucking him. Derek flicked off the TV as he walked to his bedroom, excitement building inside in anticipation of hearing Thomas' voice in his ear. He changed out of his work clothes and into a clean pair of sleep pants, foregoing a shirt this time. Lying back on the bed he dialed the number. He made the same choices again in the automated menu until he got to their live operator. 

“Good evening, sir,” the same operator from last night greeted. “Thank you for calling 'For a Good Time'; we are ready and willing to meet your needs. What are you looking for tonight?”

“Yeah, hi,” Derek began, his anxiety bubbling to the surface, making his voice catch. “I called here last night and spoke with Thomas. I was hoping to talk to him again.”

“Of course!” the operator cheerfully exclaimed. “Derek Hale, wasn't it? I remember your voice. Let me check...” She paused while she checked what Derek assumed was Thomas' availability. “Yes, Thomas' line is currently free, so I will patch you through. But before I do, Thomas left a note with me that you were interested in possibly setting up a texting account with him. Is that something you want to do now?”

Derek's heart leapt in his chest. The possibility of more communication with Thomas thrilled Derek immensely, so he couldn't turn down this opportunity. “Yes, yes I'd love to. How does it work?”

“Well basically you will wait for Thomas to send you a confirmation text,” she explained. “And once you respond back to that, any texts that you send to him will be charged to your wireless carrier. Now, please keep in mind that Thomas does this outside of his normal working hours, so you may not always get an immediate response from him. You can work out together what might be the best times to converse in this manner.”

This was exactly what Derek was looking for. 

“Okay, let's set it up now.”

She asked him for his phone number and went over the charges and payment guidelines before finally switching him over to Thomas. Derek took several deep breaths in excitement before the line picked up.

“David!” Thomas exclaimed. “I'm so happy to hear from you again!” He did sound genuinely happy to Derek, and Derek wondered if Thomas was really that good at his job or if he might actually enjoy talking to him. Derek chose to think the latter, if only to make him feel better.

“Hi, Thomas,” Derek said, feeling heat rush up his cheeks. “I'm glad I was able to get you on the phone. I was worried you might already be on another call.” He flinched, hoping Thomas didn't think he sounded too needy.

Thomas laughed. “No, actually this is the best time to call me; it's the start of my shift. You should call me every night at this time.” His tone was playful and flirty and the knot in Derek's stomach loosened.

“Every night?” Derek asked. “That might get a bit expensive.” The truth was Derek would spend his last dollar on Thomas. He made Derek feel so amazing. 

“Oh, but I am so worth it,” Thomas said, chuckling. “Candice told me you gave her your info so we could text. She sent me your number.”

Candice? Derek thought she must be the operator. 

“Yeah, I did. She told me we could talk about what times would work best for you, since you do that outside your normal working hours.”

“Ah, well, anytime really,” Thomas said. “I'm a college student, so my schedule's kinda all over the place. You can text me whenever, and I'll let you know if I'm busy or if I can chat. That okay with you?”

Derek wondered what year of college Thomas was in, if he was old enough to drink, where he went to school. He thought for a fleeting moment how crazy it would be if Thomas went to Derek's university, but figured the likelihood of that coincidence was pretty low. 

“It sounds perfect,” Derek replied. He wanted to ask Thomas so many questions, but held his tongue, knowing Thomas probably wouldn't answer.

“So, David,” Thomas said, drawing out the vowels. “How was your day today?”

Derek was pleasantly surprised that Thomas asked him such a normal question. 

“It was pretty stressful actually. I barely had a moment to myself and during lunch someone unknowingly brought up some pretty shitty memories from a past relationship.”

“I'm sorry, David, that sucks,” Thomas said, concern thick in his voice. “You wanna talk about it? Or, I could try and take your mind off it instead.” 

“I think I'd prefer the latter,” Derek said. The last thing he wanted to do was rehash the awkward lunch with Stiles today, and he really wanted to get off, preferably with Thomas.

“Tell me what you want, David,” Thomas demanded, all hints of playfulness gone from his tone. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Derek said, feeling bolder this time. His cock hardened at the thought, and he reached down to stroke himself through the soft fabric of his pants.

Thomas made a soft sound. “I can do that. I can take care of you,” Thomas said. “Are you on your bed right now, David?”

“Yeah,” Derek replied, closing his eyes as he slid his hand inside his briefs. 

“Lay on your stomach,” Thomas said. “Lift your ass in the air for me.”

Derek did as Thomas requested, awkwardly situating himself so he could hold the phone and still jerk himself off. He slid his pajama pants and briefs to his knees and spread his legs as far as the clothes allowed him.

“You good?” Thomas asked. “Got lube nearby?”

Derek made an affirmative noise. “I have to put the phone down for a second,” he told Thomas.

Setting the phone down on the pillow, Derek sat up on his knees and opened the drawer in his nightstand to pull out his bottle of lube. He assumed Thomas was going to have Derek finger himself, so he went ahead and squeezed a few drops onto his fingers and set the bottle back in the drawer. He lay back down with his head on the pillow and put the phone up to his ear. 

“Okay,” Derek said. “I've got my fingers slicked up.”

“Good boy,” Thomas said, and Derek's dick jumped in response. “Now I'm gonna tell you what to do and I want you to imagine I'm sitting behind you and watching you open yourself up.”

Derek groaned at the mental image. He reached behind himself and lightly rubbed the pads of his slick fingers across his hole. 

“Slide one finger in,” Thomas said. His voice was stable and solid in comparison to how Derek felt, his stomach muscles shaking as he slowly slipped his middle finger inside himself, the stretch a sweet burn. 

“Now a second,” Thomas continued. “Tell me how you feel.” 

Derek added his pointer finger and fucked them into the tight heat a few times, mind fogging at the sensation. He could hear Thomas breathing in his ear and Derek pictured him sitting behind him, watching Derek's ass clench down on his fingers. Derek bit down into the pillow at the thought, the soft cotton filling his mouth. 

“David,” Thomas said. “You still with me? How do you feel?”

Derek moaned and opened his mouth to respond. 

“I'm good. I'm really fucking good,” Derek said. 

“You ready to add a third?” Thomas asked. “I gotta make sure you're ready for me.”

“Yeah,” Derek breathed out, shoved one more finger inside his ass with a grunt. He bucked his hips back and fucked himself on his fingers, sweat dripping down his forehead and soaking his pillow. 

“Perfect,” Thomas said, his voice wavering from the confident strength he had been maintaining up until now. “You're so good for me, David. I'm so proud of you.”

Derek made a small broken noise at the praise and his hips stuttered in their rhythm. 

“Do you have a dildo?” Thomas asked.

“No,” Derek replied, and he had never regretted it more than right now.

Thomas tsked. “Well, we'll have to get you one for next time, won't we?” he told Derek. “I can find something perfect for you and text you the link, that way every time you use it you can think about how it's the one I picked out for you.”

“Fuck, please,” Derek pleaded. Thomas telling him to buy a toy that he would pick out almost sent Derek over the edge, and he knew if he laid a hand on his dick he would be coming in seconds. He wanted Thomas to describe fucking him, but now Derek was too far gone.

“Please, what, David?” Thomas asked, his breaths now coming heavily over the phone. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come,” Derek whined. “Please, Thomas.”

“Come on, then,” Thomas said. “Let me hear you come. Come for me with your fingers stuffed in your ass and your face in the pillow. God, I can't imagine how fucking amazing you must look right now.”

At that Derek dropped the phone and let it rest on the pillow next to his ear while he reached down and wrapped his fingers around his cock. A few quick, tight strokes and Derek was coming, his ass tightening around his fingers, his bed sheets getting soaked. He vaguely heard Thomas groaning, the sound tinny and small as it came out of the phone. 

Derek collapsed to his side, mindful of the wet spot underneath him. He grasped for the phone, fingers clumsy and awkward. Pressing it to his ear Derek heard, “David, you there?”

“Yeah,” Derek replied. He pulled in air through his nose, trying to slow down his breathing. His heart danced in his chest. “I'm here.”

“Good,” Thomas said. “So good. That orgasm sounded like it was pretty fucking awesome.” 

Thomas chuckled and Derek smiled, the warm feeling settling in his stomach again, like last time. One night stands were never this good. Hell, his previous relationships were never this good. Derek was so screwed, but right now he didn't care. In the morning he could care, maybe even next week, next month, but right now he was going to enjoy it.

“Are you really going tell me what dildo to buy?” Derek asked, curious. He had entertained buying one before, but after searching online several times and one very embarrassing trip to the local adult store, Derek had given up. There were too many choices and Derek had too many questions.

“Yeah, I'll help you,” Thomas said. “We can figure out what exactly you're looking for, ya know, size, material, stuff like that. Then I'll find you a really good one; I promise.”

“Do you have one?” Derek asked. He knew it was probably a stupid question, but he wanted to hear Thomas talk about it regardless.

“Dude, I have, like, ten dildos,” Thomas said, his voice giddy. “I've even got a werewolf one.”

“A what?” Derek asked. “Who the hell would buy a dildo shaped like a werewolf?”

“No, it's not, like, an entire werewolf,” Thomas explained. “It's supposed to be like a werewolf's dick, with the knot and everything.”

“What the hell is a knot?” Derek said. “That's a little weird.” 

Thomas laughed. “I guess, maybe. I think it's pretty hot. It's like this thing, well, nevermind. I have a lot of dildos though.”

Derek cleared his throat. “Do you ever use them when you're on the phone?” He hoped he hadn't crossed a line by asking that. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Thomas teased. He paused for a few seconds. “Ah, sometimes I do. If I'm really into it, and it fits what we're talking about.”

Derek wondered if Thomas had ever been 'really into it' when he'd been on the phone with him. He thought he'd heard some telltale noises from Thomas, but Derek wasn't sure if those were only for show. He was too nervous to ask. 

“And I can tell by your silence that you're probably wondering if I've ever been really into it when we've been on the phone,” Thomas said. 

Derek winced, upset that he was so transparent. 

“Well, I haven't needed to use a dildo with you, or really had the chance, yet,” Thomas said. “I've been so turned on that I barely needed to touch my dick and I was coming all over myself - both times.”

A spark ran up Derek's spine, one that he wasn't sure he should let himself feel. 

“You don't have to say that, you know,” Derek said. “I know it's just a job for you.”

“David, listen to me,” Thomas said. “I know it's a job, but I chose this job, I don't do it because I'm forced to or anything. I do it because I like getting off and I found out I'm pretty fucking good at getting other people off too; on the phone, at least.” He laughed, and Derek smirked, wondering how a guy like Thomas could be bad at sex in any way. 

“And yeah, I don't always get off with everybody I talk to,” Thomas continued. “I'll admit, and I hope I don't get fired for this, but some guys are terrible at it. They just sit there and breathe into the phone. I need some feedback, and you give great feedback, man. Your voice is like, sex made into sound waves.”

“Sex made into sound waves?” Derek asked, laughing. 

“Yes,” Thomas said. “It works, shut up. Plus, I like you. You seem like a nice dude, and I could see us being friends… outside of this.”

Derek's throat closed up tight, and he pushed down a miserable sound that threatened to escape. 

“And I don't _have_ to say anything like that to you,” Thomas said. “All I'm required to do is attempt to get you off, and I really don't even have to do that, if you didn't want. If you called and said that you wanted to talk about your day, I can do that too. Actually, a lot of people do that. Sometimes people don't want to be lonely, and that doesn't always require an orgasm to fix. I'm telling you this stuff because I want to tell you.”

Tears welled in Derek's eyes and he shut them tight, felt wetness trail down over his nose. 

“I like talking to you, Thomas,” Derek said. It took every ounce of his willpower to not let his voice break. “But I like...”

“The orgasms too?” Thomas supplied.

“Yes,” Derek answered. Very much so, Derek thought to himself.

“Well, we can talk over text,” Thomas suggested. “You can send me random comments throughout your day. If something shitty happens and you wanna vent, or if something awesome happens and you wanna freak out. Like normal friends do when they text.”

There was that word again, _friend_. It was such a fragile thing in Derek's mind, and it terrified him. He had friends but nothing that felt as powerful as this thing with Thomas felt. 

“Look, real talk here,” Thomas said. “I know your real name's not David, and you know mine's not Thomas. Also, I can't tell you where I live or go to school, and I hope you know I will _never_ look at your customer file and see where you live unless you want me to. But besides that, there isn't any reason why we can't just act like two normal guys who talk a lot and have awesome phone sex. Sort of like virtual friends with benefits.”

Except that Derek knew Thomas did this with other guys. He said he was pretty selective with whom he chose to text with, but to Derek it still sounded like he did it with at least a few. He wanted so badly to be someone important to Thomas, but he also knew he didn't have the right to ask him to stop doing it with anyone else. It was Thomas' job, and it wasn't fair. For now, Derek would have to take what he could get, and be happy with it. The sad part was that it was better than anything else in his life.

“Okay,” Derek said finally. “That could work.” It would have to.

“Awesome,” Thomas said. He really did sound excited, and it untwisted a small piece of the knot around Derek's heart. “And my first order of business as your friend, that memory that got brought up today, what was it about?”

Derek sighed, not sure if he wanted to get into this. 

“There was something that I used to enjoy doing, but since it was with my ex, I can't do it anymore because it triggers all these bad memories of our relationship.” 

“Well, here's my advice for you,” Thomas said. “Fuck it. You can't let your ex ruin the rest of your life. If you enjoy something, go do it, and do it with new people. Make new memories, good ones. Life's too fucking short, dude.”

They talked for a few more minutes about some random things, what movies were coming out this weekend (Thomas liked sci-fi films, which Derek never really got into), and what kind of food they liked (Thomas loved spicy things, Derek's eyes burned when he added too much pepper). After they hung up Derek felt better, a little lighter. Thomas sent him a text right before they hung up, and Derek had saved the number in his phone. The number had the same toll area code as the main line, which didn't give Derek any insight as to where Thomas might live. He promised himself he would wait until at least tomorrow to text Thomas, and even then only once. And by the time Derek dozed off on his couch after grading a few essays, he also promised himself that he would go out with the others in the department Saturday night. 

New memories and all that.

~~~~

Derek and Thomas started texting the next day after Derek sent a tentative first message asking how Thomas' day had been going so far. Once Derek got over his initial awkwardness, they texted pretty much throughout the day, talking about little things, nothing of too much importance, but they helped piece together Thomas' personality in Derek's mind. Thomas was a bit impatient, but he was a genuinely kind person, as long as you didn't insult those he cared about. He loved computers and video games, and had a best friend who he simply called “S” that he shared an apartment with. Thomas also seemed to stress out pretty easily, and a couple of times Derek thought about how he might talk to a student who had come to his office freaking out about an exam, and calmed Thomas down that way. Derek didn't get to call the next couple of nights. Thursday he stayed late on campus to finish grading the essays he kept putting off, and on Friday Boyd and Erica dragged him out to dinner. By the time he got home that night, slightly tipsy from the wine Erica insisted on ordering, it was near midnight and Derek almost immediately passed out on his bed.

Saturday was spent in a state of mental conflict, wavering between being sure he was going out that night, and berating himself for being stupid enough to put himself in that situation. He thought about texting Thomas but knew he worked during the day, and didn't want to bother him. Derek got as far as dialing the number to the sex line late afternoon, not to get off, but to hear Thomas' voice and get reassurance that going out was the right thing to do. He hung up once he heard the recording. After dinner he took a couple shots of whiskey and sat on the couch waiting for Erica and Boyd to pick him up. Erica had to physically drag Derek out the door by his arm, his gut twisting again with anxiety. He slowly started to calm down once they got in the car, Erica blasting the radio and singing in his ear as she wrapped her arms around the passenger seat. 

They walked into the bar and the wall of noise nearly knocked him unconscious. Derek had forgotten how horrifically noisy this place was, especially on Saturday nights where they set up a makeshift piano bar. The pianist was belting out an especially interesting rendition of _Welcome to the Jungle_ as Derek, Erica, and Boyd found the others already sitting in a corner table. Derek waved at Isaac, a new assistant professor, and took a seat between him and Erica. The other side of the table was empty but drinks littered the table. Derek turned to ask Isaac who else was there when he was interrupted.

“I will seriously give you a hundred bucks if you get up there and sing whatever song I pick,” Stiles yelled, poking his friend Scott in the chest, his drink sloshing over and spilling onto the table in front of him as he sat down. Scott was in vet school and was attached to Stiles' hip. 

“It's not worth it,” Lydia said, sitting down next to Stiles, her martini balanced in her neatly manicured hands. Lydia was also in the Classics program studying ancient languages. Derek had never seen someone so in tune to languages as she was. Her girlfriend Allison sat down next to her, setting down a soda on the table. Allison worked for the sheriff's department as a detective; if Derek ever got in a bind she would be the first person he'd call. 

Stiles and Scott continued to argue over whether or not Scott would get up on stage and sing with the pianist. Derek tuned them out and gave Erica his credit card so she could get him a drink. The shots from earlier were wearing off, but his anxiety seemed to be staying away. There were enough different faces here that it didn't feel too familiar. 

Isaac leaned over and quietly asked, “Who's that with Stiles? The guy with the tattoo on his arm?”

Derek looked at Isaac for a moment. 

“That's Scott, Stiles' friend. He's in vet school here.”

Isaac got an odd look on his face. “Is he single?”

Derek laughed, not expecting that question. “I don't know for sure. I think he used to date Allison, the brunette over there that's with Lydia, but I’m not sure if he's with anybody now.” Derek wasn’t sure if Scott even liked guys, but he didn’t want to burst Isaac’s bubble.

Erica came back with a gin and tonic for Derek and he thanked her with a pat on the shoulder. He was sipping from his glass, the bitter liquid sliding down his throat when someone shouted at him.

“Dr. Hale!” It was Stiles, and he had a huge goofy grin on his face. He stood up halfway and leaned over the table as far as he could reach, holding out a hand to Derek, palm facing towards him. Derek looked up at Stiles' hand and raised his eyebrow. After an awkward moment Stiles moved his hand and sat down, pouting slightly. 

Lydia rolled her eyes at Stiles and mumbled something under her breath. She looked at Derek and said, “It's really nice to see you out, Derek.” Lydia was one of those students that called all of her professors by their first name. No one really felt like correcting her. Allison gave Derek a small nod and he smiled in return. 

“Yeah, when's the last time you actually hung out with any of us?” Scott asked and took a swig of his beer. 

“The conference back in April in Cincinnati,” Stiles answered. “We all went to that sushi bar downtown.”

Derek was surprised Stiles would remember something like that, but he was right and Derek nodded in agreement. 

Getting caught up in a conversation with Boyd and Erica, Derek shut out most of what was going on across the table. A couple times he saw Stiles looking at him out of the corner of his eye, but by that point Derek was too pleasantly buzzed to care. He figured Stiles wanted to talk to him some more about his paper or maybe his upcoming talk at the conference, but Derek refused to talk shop while he was out tonight. The evening was going much better than he thought it would, and he didn't want to ruin it by talking about work.

Derek ended up sitting by himself later on when Boyd and Erica had gone to another table to talk with some friends, and Isaac had disappeared. He didn't notice the girls and Scott were also gone when Stiles came and sat down in Erica's seat next to Derek.

Derek took a sip of his beer, frowning when he realized there wasn't any left. 

Stiles smiled at him and held out his beer to Derek. 

“Want mine? I'm kinda done.”

Derek glanced at the label and took it, murmuring a quiet ‘thanks.’ 

“So, why did you come out tonight?” Stiles asked. He cringed when Derek gave him a sharp look. “Sorry, I don't mean it in a bad way. It's only, you never really do anything with the rest of the department, except for conferences and such.” Stiles rubbed his fingers through the condensation on Erica's empty glass in front of him, and Derek found his eyes drawn to them, slender and graceful with the patterns he drew.

Shrugging, Derek drank from Stiles' beer. “Someone convinced me to,” he told Stiles. “They helped remind me that life is too fucking short, and I shouldn't let things in my past hold me back. Make new memories.”

Stiles jerked his head up and stared at Derek, eyes wide and his mouth open. The look was soon gone, replaced with a smile that didn't quite reach Stiles' eyes. 

“Ah, that's good, Dr. Hale,” Stiles said. He swallowed hard and turned around in the chair, clearly looking for his friends. 

Derek wasn't terribly surprised; the students could only stand to hang out with the professors for so long before they got bored. Ten years down the line and Stiles would have just as much baggage as Derek did. He'd understand then.

“You'll understand soon,” Derek said, and Stiles turned back around quickly to face him.

“What?” He asked Derek. He still had a look on his face that told Derek he wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else. Derek was too drunk to care, though. Stiles constantly bugged him at school, he deserved to sit here for a few minutes and listen to Derek bitch this time.

“I know you probably think I'm this boring old guy,” Derek said, hiccupping softly. “But there's a point in your life where too much shit piles up, and you don't want to do the things you used to do when you were young. They aren't important anymore.” Or they didn't feel important, especially when you had no one to do them with, Derek thought bitterly.

Stiles shook his head. “No, I don't think that you're boring. You are my favorite professor, like, ever. And you are so amazingly smart, the smartest in your field. Have I ever told you that you're the reason I applied here? I read all of your articles and I knew I had to study under you.”

Stiles had never told Derek that; no student ever had. Derek's skin flushed at the praise, hot under his clothes.

“But you don't have to be older than me to understand that life fucking sucks sometimes,” Stiles continued. “And yeah, sure, things that are important when you're young become less so when you get older, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't let yourself relax and have fun. Your friend was totally right.” He gave Derek a close-lipped smile, his eyes sad.

“He was,” Derek said. He thought about Thomas and how happy he made Derek in the past week of knowing him, how forcing him to go out tonight made Derek feel more normal than he had felt in a very long time. He wished Thomas was here with him. That would have made the night perfect.

Stiles stood up and put his hand on Derek's shoulder. He squeezed once, Derek's muscles tight from stress, before walking off, his hand trailing down Derek's arm as he did so. Derek found himself watching Stiles' hands again, felt the ghost of his touch still. He dropped his head onto the table and lamented that it was probably too late to call and speak with Thomas tonight, he wasn't on shift. But he could text him.

Derek took his phone out of his pocket and opened the ongoing conversation he had saved with Thomas. 

_Remember that thing I told you about the other day? The thing I didn't want to do because it made me think of my ex? Well I did it, you should be proud of me. - D_

A few minutes went by while Derek watched the other people in the bar before his phone vibrated.

_I am so proud of you! :-DDDD What, may I ask, did you do? - t_

_There's a bar I used to go to when I was in school, every Saturday night. I haven't been since we broke up, it's been years now. But I went tonight. I even had fun. - D_

_That's so awesome, D. I am so fucking proud of you! Making new memories like I said!! ;-) - t_

_One of my students, I'm a college professor, I know I've never told you before, they told me that I'm the reason they came to school here. Nobody had ever said anything so nice to me before. I was floored. I can't believe someone would actually think of me that way. - D_

A few minutes passed before he got a reply. Erica and Boyd came back to join him at the table with a few bottles of water, and Derek drank about half of his before his phone buzzed again.

_Wow! Maybe they're hot for teacher?? :-O – t_

_LOL. I don't think it's like that. He studies the same things I do. It's more of a mentor relationship. - D_

_Hmm, I don't think those two are mutually exclusive ;-) Hey, you could totally have hot nasty sex over your desk!!! - t_

_Like I said, he doesn't like me like that. Plus I would rather do that with you. - D_

Erica stood up and made a gesture to get him to follow. As they walked to the exit they passed Stiles and Scott standing by the bar with Isaac. Isaac and Scott were deep in conversation and Stiles was standing with his arms crossed, a look of worry on his face. Derek felt his phone buzz in his back pocket and he pulled it out.

_Guess we're gonna have to get you that dildo then ;-) - t_

Erica nudged him in the ribs to try and get him to say goodbye to the guys standing at the bar, but when Derek looked up Stiles was staring straight at him. Derek's smile at Thomas' words slipped off his face at Stiles' expression. He looked disappointed, or confused, and Derek was still too drunk to try and figure it out. Maybe Thomas was right, maybe Stiles did have some sort of crush on Derek. If he did, though, Derek would have to shut that down right away. He would absolutely _never_ get involved with a student. Not after what happened with him and Kate.

Derek waved feebly at Stiles, Scott and Isaac still too involved in their own conversation to pay much attention. Stiles smiled and waved back. 

As they walked outside, the cool air a welcome feeling on Derek's alcohol-flushed skin, he typed up a response to Thomas.

_You just let me know my options, and pick out a good one. Preferably one that lets me imagine you're fucking me. - D_

They got into Boyd's car, Erica lying down in the back seat. Halfway back to Derek's place she sat up and demanded French fries, so they stopped at a drive-thru and sat in the parking lot eating greasy fast food. 

It turned out to be a pretty good night after all.

~~~~

Derek woke up late Sunday morning, rolling out of bed lazily and shuffling to his bathroom. He took a long shower and jerked off, imagining Thomas eating him out beneath the hot spray of water, and Derek came with a shout, come streaking down the tile wall. 

He spent the rest of the day in his pajamas, browsing online for a dildo. Derek had no idea there were so many different choices. A few hours and several coffees later, he decided he preferred a more lifelike material and shape, and thought he might like one that vibrated too. Why the hell not, he thought to himself. 

Derek texted the details of what he liked to Thomas late in the afternoon. He set his phone down and grabbed a stack of tests to grade, relaxing on the couch with the TV on in the background as he read through the essays. A couple of hours passed by and his stomach started to growl. He looked at the time on his phone and a small pang of anxiety formed in the pit of his stomach when he realized Thomas still hadn't responded. Ever since they started texting the longest Thomas would wait to text back was no more than about twenty minutes, and since it was Sunday, it's not like Thomas had class or anything. Naturally, Derek started to imagine the worst: Thomas on a date, Thomas in the hospital, or simply Thomas not wanting to respond. Derek didn't know what would have changed since last night, but there was no reasoning with his over-anxious, paranoid mind. 

Sitting there chewing his lip for a few minutes, Derek pondered sending another text. Maybe the first one didn't go through, or maybe Thomas didn't hear it. Or maybe he was looking online for the perfect toy for Derek right now and was going to reply once he found something. Derek shouldn't worry, he was sure everything was fine. But then it was ten o'clock, and Derek still hadn't eaten dinner, and there were ungraded tests laying face down on his lap. He twirled the red marker in his hand as his eyes darted back and forth from the TV to his phone. 

Derek typed out a couple texts to Thomas, but erased them before pressing send. He knew he was acting like an idiot, but he honestly couldn't help himself. Around midnight he took a sleeping pill and put the tests back in his bag, then flopped down onto his bed. Luckily the drugs worked and he fell asleep soon enough.

~~~~

“Come in,” Derek shouted at the knock at his office door. The door swung open and Stiles stuck his head in, giving Derek a sheepish look.

“Hey, I'm sorry,” Stiles said while he shifted his bag up from where it was sliding down his arm. “I know I don't have anything scheduled with you but I was hoping to talk to you about my dissertation.”

Derek sighed and rubbed his temples. The sleeping pills he took the night before made him feel groggy and weird this morning, and no amount of caffeine helped the headache that came on after lunch.

“It's okay, Stiles,” Derek said and waved his hand at the chair in front of his desk. 

Stiles hurried to sit down and scooted the chair closer to Derek. He opened his bag and pulled out his laptop, his phone falling onto the floor before he could catch it. Stiles set his laptop on his knees as he bent over to pick up his phone, and flicked the screen on. 

“Sorry, Dr. Hale,” Stiles said distractedly, as he slid his thumb over the screen. 

Derek sipped his coffee and waited not so patiently for Stiles to stop fidgeting around. He watched Stiles' eyes widen comically and his cheeks flush a bright red. Derek thought it must have been quite an interesting email or text that Stiles had received to react that way.

Derek cleared his throat. “Stiles...?”

Stiles stuttered out a few noises and looked up at Derek. “Uh...” He looked back down at his phone and then up at Derek again. “Shit, sorry, Dr. Hale.” Stiles dropped his phone in his bag and opened his laptop, his face still rosy. 

They sat in Derek's office for about an hour discussing Stiles' dissertation. He was worried that some of the sources he had chosen weren't right for his topic, but by the time they finished their discussion Stiles seemed more confident and happy over what he had written so far. Derek was actually very proud of Stiles. For someone as versed in the subject as Derek was, Stiles had a very natural grasp on his topic and Derek was sure that it would get published by a major journal. He also thought that Stiles' upcoming talk at the conference in Los Angeles next month would be received extraordinarily well by his colleagues, which Derek still needed to book his hotel and travel for.

“Did you book anything yet for the conference next month?” Derek asked.

Stiles made a face and said, “Nope. I keep meaning to, but, yeah, I suck at that stuff.”

“Well, I think it's just the two of us going to this one,” Derek said. “I'll make the reservations for us; let me know if there are any restrictions you have for hotels. We can take the train down there. I don't really feel like driving.” 

An entire weekend alone with Stiles was going to be interesting. Derek would either end up strangling Stiles or becoming closer with him. He hoped the latter but it was always hard to tell with Stiles. Derek really did want to like him more, but Stiles acted so strangely around him sometimes it was hard for Derek to not get annoyed. It was as if Stiles couldn't act like a normal person when he was around Derek.

Stiles started packing his things up and stopped to look up at Derek. “Are we gonna have to share a room?”

The question wasn't that strange; their department was notoriously cheap when it came to these things. Derek had roomed with several other professors and students over the years, even though it probably wasn't technically allowed per the university handbook.

“I wouldn't be surprised,” Derek replied. 

Stiles sat still with his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide. He looked uncomfortable and Derek rushed to try and ease the tension.

“If you don't feel comfortable with that,” Derek told him, “I'll speak with the department head and let her know that we have to get two rooms. We've done it before.” The last thing Derek wanted was for Stiles was to be uncomfortable about sleeping in the same room as one of his professors because the department head was such a tight-ass.

Laughing, Stiles held up his hands. “No, don't do that. It's totally okay with me, man. We can have a slumber party or something.”

Derek lifted an eyebrow to let Stiles know how he felt about that.

“Well,” Stiles said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “Maybe not slumber parties. Netflix marathons?”

Derek smiled at Stiles. “That, I can do.”

“No Sci-fi!” Stiles exclaimed. “I promise.” 

Not sure whether or not Derek had ever mentioned his dislike of Sci-fi to Stiles, Derek played along. 

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Stiles stood up and Derek walked him out the door, reminding him to let him know if he thought of anything else he'd need for the trip.

After taking a quick trip to the break room to get more coffee, Derek got back to his desk to find the light blinking on his phone signaling that he had a text. He unlocked the screen and pulled up his messages. Thomas had finally responded.

_D, I AM SO SORRY I MISSED YOUR MESSAGE YESTERDAY. I am truly sorry, I don't know why my phone didn't alert me. I only now saw it and I think I can totally find you something like that ;-) - t_

Before Derek could start to type a response, his heart in his throat knowing that Thomas wasn't ignoring him, another text came in.

_Hey look, I'm only technically supposed to use this phone for texts, but I can make some calls on it. If you're free right now, want to call me and chat? - t_

Derek felt heat rush up his chest and neck with thoughts of speaking to Thomas while he was at work. Could he really sit in his office with Thomas' voice in his ear, telling him to do all the filthy things Derek loved to hear, tugging at his cock under his desk? He couldn't pass the opportunity up, especially after how terrible he felt last night when he thought Thomas was ignoring him, so he got up quickly and put his 'out to lunch' sign on his door and locked it. He sat back down at his desk and called the direct number. It rang once before it picked up.

“David!” Thomas greeted. 

“Hi Thomas,” Derek said. His stomach gave a little flip at how excited Thomas sounded.

“I'm so glad you called me,” Thomas said. “I was so worried you'd be angry that I didn't text you back right away.”

Derek hadn't been angry, he'd be sick with anxiety. But he couldn't let him know that, he didn't want Thomas to feel bad, and he didn't want to look too clingy either. 

“I could never be angry with you,” Derek said. It was the truth, and he didn't care how it made him sound.

“Oh shit,” Thomas said, “you're making me blush.” He let out what sounded surprisingly like a giggle followed by a snort.

At the risk of spilling any more of his emotions everywhere, Derek changed the subject. 

“So, you think you can find me a good toy?” He asked while he palmed his growing erection.

“Fuck yes I can,” Thomas said. “I have to be honest, after I got over the initial shock that I missed your text, once I actually read it and imagined you searching online for them yesterday, well, I was glad I was sitting down, because most of the blood in my vital organs kinda left.”

Derek's dick jumped at Thomas' words. He glanced at his door before he unbuttoned his pants and unzipped his fly. 

“I don't know, I'd call your dick a pretty vital organ,” Derek teased. He slipped his hand into his briefs and wrapped his fingers around his cock. He tugged himself roughly and rubbed his thumb over the slit, smearing pre-come around.

“Ha, true,” Thomas responded. He sounded out of breath. 

Derek was feeling bold, so he asked, “Are you already touching yourself?”

Thomas groaned out a reply, “Yes. God, do you have any idea what you do to me?” 

“Fuck, Thomas,” Derek breathed out. He stroked his cock fast, tightening his fingers and twisting the way he always liked it. “If you were here, I'd bend you over my desk and fuck you so hard you'd have bruises on the front of your thighs for weeks.”

“Oh god, you're in your office,” Thomas murmured. “I'd be way too loud though, someone would probably hear me.”

Derek smiled and said, “Well, then I'd stuff your boxers in your mouth. Unless you're a briefs guy.”

“Shit, fuck,” Thomas spat out. He was panting now and Derek could hear the distinct sound of skin slapping through the phone. “Boxer briefs, ah, fuck. Tell me... keep talking to me, please.”

Derek clamped his fingers around the base of his dick so he wouldn't come too fast. He wanted to try and make Thomas come first. 

“I'd pull your hands behind your back and grab your wrists with one hand, then take my other hand and grab a fistful of hair and yank your head back. You think you could take it like that for me?” He hoped he sounded confident enough, and he tipped his head back to rest against the chair, concentrated on keeping his breathing steady. Derek stroked his cock slowly, trying to stay on the edge but not go over.

“Yes, please,” Thomas said. He whined softly into the phone and stammered out, “Tell me where you'd come- fuck... please.”

Derek breathed in deeply before he said, “I'd pull out and come all over your back and ass. Watch it drip over your gaping hole and I'd push it inside with my fingers. Then I'd jerk you off nice and quick with my other hand. I bet you'd be fast, with my fingers in your ass like that.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Thomas moaned.

“Let me hear you,” Derek said. He sped up his hand on his own cock; he was getting very close.

“I'm, fuck –" Thomas let out a loud groan, and Derek tightened his grip on himself before coming too, making a mess of his slacks and the front of his desk.

After a moment Thomas laughed softly. “That was so fucking amazing.”

Derek grabbed a couple tissues and started to clean himself up. 

“It's always amazing with you, but that was especially awesome.” Not to mention the fact that this wasn't a normal call or at least Derek didn't think so. It was easy to forget sometimes that he paid for this, paid to talk to Thomas. He wasn't sure if this counted. He hoped it didn't.

“And it was on the house too,” Thomas said, laughing. “But don't tell anyone, or I could get fired.” 

So Derek was right, this was basically phone sex between two friends, not a client and a customer. He knew he shouldn't read into it, but Thomas wanting to talk to him outside of the normal way, wanting to break the rules, made Derek's heart skip with excitement. 

“I won't, I promise,” Derek said. “I don't want to get you in trouble”

“Thanks,” Thomas said, his voice soft.

Derek decided to take a leap, he figured the worst Thomas could say was no. 

“Can I... could I have your personal number? That way we could do this again, outside the sex line?” He clenched his fist on his desk, hoping for a good answer.

Thomas didn't respond at first, Derek could hear him breathing lightly into the phone. Finally he said, “David, I can't do that. Please understand.”

“Okay,” Derek said, crestfallen, his heart sinking into his stomach at the rejection. He should have known. This was a bad idea. He should have left it alone. No matter how much Thomas seemed to like Derek, he was still a client. “I get it; you need to be able to get paid. Not a problem.” He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. 

“It's not the money,” Thomas said quickly. “Not at all, and please don't think that. I need the anonymity. And I need you to respect that. Please.”

Derek did respect that, he completely understood, and in a way he knew that he should try protecting his own too, but his feelings for Thomas were clouding his better judgment. He was having trouble preventing that, even though he knew he should. Every time his head cleared and he examined what he was doing, Derek recognized how toxic this was, feeling so much for someone who was totally unavailable. There was only one outcome to this, and that was Derek with his heart broken. But he couldn't stop himself. 

They hung up shortly thereafter, with promises to text each other later. Thomas had teased Derek lightly about finding him a toy, but Derek could tell Thomas' tone was faked, a false levity to cover up the awkward exchange they just had. It left Derek with a numb feeling in his limbs as he set his phone aside and sagged in his chair. He stayed there for a while longer with his eyes shut, trying to block out the world and the depression he knew was coming.

~~~~

The week dragged on slower than Derek would have liked. He was hoping to immerse himself in his work enough that he wouldn't have time to think about how rejected he felt after his last phone conversation with Thomas, but the universe seemed to be against him. His normally busy office hours were quiet, and even Stiles didn't come by once. There was a lull in the assignments he gave his students, so there wasn't much to grade either. 

Derek and Thomas texted back and forth sparingly throughout the week, but it was nothing like before. Derek's anxiety over what was going on between them only worsened as he assumed that he had pushed too far and scared Thomas off. That his unhealthy obsession with this unobtainable guy had forced Thomas to treat him like any other customer, all vague pleasantries and conversations that sounded like they came from a cheap porno. By Thursday evening Derek stopped trying, letting a text from Thomas remain unanswered on his phone. He drank half a bottle of whiskey that night.

Friday morning he woke up and vowed to stop moping over what was clearly not even a real relationship. He had spoken to Thomas for a couple of weeks now, and Derek didn't even actually know him. Derek emerged from his shower feeling hopeful that he could forget about this and move on. He trimmed his beard and put on his favorite cologne, then put on the gray jacket that never failed to earn him looks of appreciation. He was grabbing his keys and phone to walk out the door when he noticed he had an unread text. Derek thumbed the lock on the screen and saw it was from Thomas.

_Hey, I know this week has been kinda shitty between us. I'm sorry I think it's my fault because of what I said about not wanting to give you my number. I hate not talking to you more. I know it hasn't been that long since we started but it seems like so much longer. And I know this is weird because we started out with you as my customer and now it feels like it's something more. -t_

There was a second text that came in about 5 minutes after the first was sent.

_So I guess what I'm trying to say is I want to go back to how it was before. I'm gonna give you my real number, but ask that we take this slow, even though you can probably tell from the area code that I live near you. I know I promised not to look at any of your personal info, but that was kinda right in my face. Now you can probably understand my hesitancy on the phone Monday. I really hope to hear from you. -t_

A third and final text simply listed Thomas' phone number, which did have the same area code as Derek's. Derek was shocked, to say the least, but the city he lived in was huge, and the possibility of actually knowing Thomas was pretty low. The fact that it meant that they may get to meet sometime had Derek breathing slow and calm, trying not to get worked up.

He now understood why Thomas got so uncomfortable when Derek asked for his number: Thomas had already known that they lived near each other and that probably freaked him out. He tried to put himself into Thomas' shoes: work and personal lives colliding for most people could be weird enough. Derek couldn't even imagine how it would be when you had a job like Thomas did.

Thomas had texted him a little after midnight, but even though he wanted to talk to him as soon as he could, Derek wasn't about to call him before eight o'clock in the morning. He put his phone in his pocket and walked out the door to head to the university.

The drive was quicker than normal, his thoughts bouncing around at the possibilities of one day meeting Thomas, maybe going on an actual date. Derek's mood this morning had now gone from resolute to damn near ecstatic. It was such a drastic change from earlier in the week it almost seemed surreal. 

Derek had barely settled in at his desk when Erica poked her head into his office.

“Hale,” she said, pointing at him with a lacquered nail. “Party at my house tomorrow. Bring booze and that dip you always make. Eight sharp.”

Derek barely opened his mouth to respond before she left. He would go to the party; he never missed one of Boyd and Erica's gatherings. They always had great drinks and music, and if he ever got overwhelmed by all the people or needed some space, he would go into their guest room and hang out with their dog Rufus. 

The morning went by surprisingly fast, what with two classes to teach and office hours that actually included students coming to his office. He ran to the small deli across the street from their building to grab a sandwich for lunch and brought it back to his office. Pulling out his phone, Derek scrolled through his contacts to find Thomas' new number. He pressed the call button and tried to relax, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

“I didn't know if you'd call or not,” Thomas said in greeting. 

“I was waiting for a more reasonable hour,” Derek said. “I didn't see your messages until this morning right before I left for work.”

“Hey, you could've called then, I was up,” Thomas said, laughing slightly. “I actually never went to bed, to be honest.”

“Why not?” Derek asked. 

“Ah...” Thomas laughed louder this time. “I was pretty worked up thinking you wouldn't call me. I don't know, it's kinda dumb, I guess. I was worried I fucked everything up.”

“Thomas, you had every right to not want to give me your number,” Derek said. He needed Thomas to know that he wasn't at fault here. “Look, you don't know me, not really, and as much as I wanted to talk to you outside the official channels, you don't owe me anything. You don't need to apologize about it at all. I'm the one who should be apologizing, for putting you on the spot like that.” This was the same spiel Derek had been saying to himself all week. 

“Thanks,” Thomas said, “but I'm kinda the one who started it, having you call me on the other phone first. Breaking rules that were there for my safety and anonymity, because I wanted more of you than what I was getting.”

Derek sighed, hating that Thomas was putting so much blame on himself over this. 

“That doesn't matter. I made you uncomfortable, and that was never my intention. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay, everything's forgiven, man,” Thomas said. “Why don't we move forward now? No point dwelling on all this shit, right?”

“Yeah, you're right,” Derek replied. He wondered what exactly Thomas meant by moving forward. Derek didn't want to push anymore; he'd let Thomas move at whatever pace he was comfortable with. 

“You let me know what you want to do. I'm putting it in your hands.”

Thomas swore softly. “Wow, dude, that's a lot of pressure.” He laughed, and the sound sent warmness through Derek's belly. “But, thanks, I appreciate it. Let’s keep it on the phone for a while, okay?”

Derek wanted more than that but he wouldn't push. “That's totally cool,” he responded. 

“How about this,” Thomas started. “We could start giving random details about ourselves and make a promise to talk on the phone every day?”

“I’d like that,” Derek said. “We could talk at lunch time during the week, since you work at night.” As always the thought of Thomas talking to other people reared its head, but Derek pushed it back down.

“Perfect,” Thomas said. “So, here's my fact of the day: I'm twenty-seven. Now you go.”

Derek blinked in surprise. He knew Thomas was in school, but at that age it was probably some type of graduate studies. Derek wouldn't lie to himself that he was glad Thomas wasn’t as young as he thought.

“I'm thirty-three,” Derek said. “In case you thought I was some middle-aged guy.”

Thomas snorted. “Nah, dude, I figured you were younger. Just from stuff you've said, pop culture things.”

The appointment reminder pinged in his laptop and Derek looked at the screen to remind himself who was coming in. It was Stiles, probably to update him on his dissertation. 

“Hey, Thomas,” Derek said, trying to sound unhappy that they had to end their conversation so soon. “Sorry, but I have a meeting in a few minutes. I need to go.”

“Oh... uh, yeah, no that's cool,” Thomas said. "I've got, uh, class, anyways. Will you text me later though? Maybe I'll text you tonight in between calls when I'm bored, or _during_ calls when I'm bored.” 

“You get bored during calls?” Derek asked. 

“If they're not you, yeah,” Thomas replied. 

Derek hoped his ridiculous blush would calm down before Stiles got here.

He stuttered a bit before telling Thomas that he really did need to go, and promised that he'd text later. They hung up and Derek quickly wolfed down the rest of his lunch. He was throwing away the wrapper when Stiles knocked on his door.

“Come in,” Derek called out.

Stiles stepped through the doorway with a little wave. “Hey, Dr. Hale.” He looked sweaty and flushed, like he had run to Derek's office. Stiles sat down heavily in his chair and swung his bag over his head, contents spilling out as it landed on its side. He swore as he bent over to pick everything up, green corduroys stretching over what Derek thought was a surprisingly nice ass.

Derek cleared his throat and asked, “Doing okay? Need any help?” Stiles seemed so out of sorts that Derek couldn't help but take pity on him. 

“Nope,” Stiles replied, voice muffled as he shoved his books and other things back into the bag. He stood up straight and yanked the hem of his shirt down from where it had ridden up his torso, but not before Derek noticed a flash of toned stomach muscles and a dark trail of hair leading under Stiles' pants. His conversation with Thomas must have woken Derek's sex drive back up from where it had been hiding this past week.

Stiles sat down and blew out a loud sigh. “Thanks though,” he told Derek with a crooked grin. “Sorry, I guess I'm kinda flustered right now.” He bit his bottom lip as his cheeks flushed red again. Whatever was going on with Stiles must be pretty serious; Derek had never seen him so frazzled.

“Anything I can help with?” Derek asked. Students often got like this near the end of their doctoral work. Anxiety and insecurity about your research was pretty normal. Derek thought he was pretty good at helping stressed-out students get themselves back on track.

Stiles' face only got impossibly redder at Derek's offer. 

“Uh…” he stammered intelligently. 

“Is it about your dissertation, or the conference?” Derek asked, trying to spur Stiles into some sort of conversation.

Stiles blinked owlishly, and then shook his head as if trying to clear it. 

“Oh, the conference, um... did you make our travel plans yet?” He asked.

Derek nodded and turned to pull up the email confirmations he had saved.

“Our train leaves Friday, late in morning, and I booked one room with two double beds for Friday and Saturday night, as well” Derek explained. “I was able to get us a room in the same hotel as the conference, so that'll be nice.”

Stiles smiled and said, “Cool. Should be fun, right? I mean, besides the nerve-wracking talk I have to give.”

Derek smiled back. “You'll do fine Stiles, I keep telling you that,” Derek said. “You should believe it, you know. You're a great speaker.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I guess I thought you hated my talks.”

Derek frowned, upset that Stiles thought he felt that way. 

“I'm truly sorry you thought that about me,” he told Stiles, “and I apologize for anything I may have said or done to make you think that. But it isn't true, not at all. You are one of the most engaging speakers I've ever seen. You might be a bit more, well, reckless and off the cuff than what I'm personally comfortable with, but you always seem to make it work.”

Stiles dipped his head and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. He looked up at Derek through long lashes and murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Did you have anything in particular you wanted to discuss today?” Derek asked. “I wasn't exactly sure what you scheduled the meeting for.”

Stiles shook his head quickly and said, “Nothing much, just wanted to check on the conference plans.”

Derek thought that was kind of an odd reason, since Stiles could have emailed him to ask, but he wasn't going to begrudge a student time with their professors. 

“Okay,” Derek said. “Well if you think of anything else, you know how to reach me.” He gave Stiles what he hoped was a welcoming smile.

Stiles raised his eyebrows and said quietly, “Yes I do.” He leaned over to grab his bag then stood up. Halfway to the door he turned around and said, “Thanks, Dr. Hale. I really appreciate what you said about my talks. That meant a lot to me to hear you say that.”

Derek smiled and said, “You're welcome, Stiles. You know you can come to me with anything, right? Not just questions about your dissertation or your talk. I'm your advisor in every sense of the word.” He wished he had known how negatively Stiles felt about his own work. Derek felt like it was partly his fault for making Stiles feel that way, even if he hadn't meant to. Derek needed to pay better attention to Stiles.

Stiles' smile widened, and he shuffled his feet a bit, ran his long fingers over the doorknob. He made a face like he was considering saying something more. 

“Ah... are you going to Dr. Reyes party Saturday?”

“Are you?” Derek smirked. Hanging out with Stiles at the party might be a good way to get Stiles to be more comfortable around Derek, maybe get him to open up more about his problems.

“Hell yeah,” Stiles said as he fist pumped slowly. “No way would I miss one of her parties. They're epic.”

Yeah, thought Derek, epically full of alcohol and grad students embarrassing themselves. 

“I'll be there,” Derek said. 

“Awesome,” Stiles replied. “See you tomorrow, then?”

“See you tomorrow, Stiles.”

~~~~

“Fuck.”

Derek turned around to find Stiles leaning against the island in Erica's kitchen, wearing half his beer. He grabbed a handful of paper towels from the stand on the counter and shoved them at Stiles.

Stiles dabbed the wad of towels clumsily against his shirt, the light gray cotton sticking to his chest, outlining the lean muscles Derek glimpsed the day before. The four whiskey sours Derek's had tonight are probably to blame when he doesn't move his eyes away from the sight in front of him.

“Maybe you've had too many?” Derek said, stepping closer to Stiles. He can see how bloodshot Stiles' eyes are, and thinks maybe beer isn't all Stiles has had tonight. 

“Nah,” Stiles said, still lazily pressing the towels to his shirt. He giggled suddenly and Derek couldn't help but smile. Stiles seemed so much more relaxed than he had been yesterday. Derek hoped their conversation helped Stiles get some confidence back in his work. 

Stiles held out the soiled towels to Derek and said, “Thanks,” a crooked smile on his face. 

Derek laughed as he took them and tossed them in the trash behind Stiles. 

“I need another beer,” Stiles announced, and put his hand on Derek's shoulder as he started to walk away.

“Nope,” Derek said, stopping Stiles by grabbing his wrist. “Think maybe you should slow down, or eat something first.”

“You're not my _dad_ ,” Stiles whined, his head lolling on his shoulders as he spun around to face Derek. 

“No,” Derek said. “But I am your teacher.” Just because Stiles wasn't in grade school didn't mean Derek couldn't look after him.

Stiles heaved a sigh and slapped the palms of his hands onto Derek's chest. 

“Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know.”

Again, Derek blamed his drunkenness on his lack of reaction to Stiles' odd behavior. He frowned before grasping Stiles' hands to remove them from his chest. Derek had enough sense remaining to know if someone walked into the kitchen right now, it wouldn't look so good.

Stiles twisted his fingers into Derek's shirt and held fast. He shook his head slowly and said, “No, no, I hate it, Derek. Lemme call you Derek, okay?” He blinked up at Derek with a pained expression on his face. 

Derek had no idea what was going on. The warmth of Stiles' fingers seeped through his shirt, the sweet smell of beer on Stiles' breath drifted towards him. He stood there mute, his brain unable to catch up on what seemed like a conversation Stiles was having in his own head instead of out loud.

“Ahem.”

Derek looked over his shoulder to find Erica giving him a _look_. He was able to peel Stiles' fingers from his shirt and push him gently away. 

“Go sit down for a bit, Stiles,” Derek said. 

Stiles pouted but complied and started shuffling out to the living room. Derek followed him until he saw Scott, who took over and guided Stiles to the couch. Scott shot Derek a quick smile before turning back to his friend.

Derek went back to the kitchen and found Erica still there, loading a few six-packs into the fridge. She closed the door and turned around to lean against it.

“So, you're sleeping with Stilinski?” Erica asked bluntly. “I knew something was up but I didn't think it was that.”

Derek started choking on the chip he had put in his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” He swallowed hard and coughed, grabbed a half-empty beer off the counter to wash it down. It was warm and tasted like piss. 

“Don't lie to me, Hale,” Erica said, her fingertips tapping on the stainless front of the appliance behind her. “You've been acting like a love struck idiot the past couple of weeks. That plus the way he was looking at you when I walked in. It’s pretty fucking obvious.”

Tossing the empty beer bottle in the trash, Derek shook his head as he said, “There's absolutely nothing going on between Stiles and I. Look at my face and tell me I'm lying.”

Erica squinted at Derek, tilting her head. 

“All right, I believe you,” she said. “But do not tell me you don't at least think he's a bit of a hottie.”

Derek sighed. “I don't think I'd use that word, but I guess he's pretty attractive.” 

She snorted as she jumped onto the counter, legs swinging as she smiled at Derek. 

“Whatever,” she said. “You should totally hit that because the boy is thirsty for your D, babe.” 

“Please don't ever use that phrase in front of me again,” Derek told Erica. 

She threw her head back and cackled. “You love all my terrible phrases, admit it,” Erica said.

Derek chuckled in response. He thought about what she said, how Stiles looked at him, and maybe some of Stiles' behavior started to make sense. The clumsiness, the flushing skin, the awkward conversations; they all added up to what was quite possibly a crush on Derek. He found it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would, which was surprising considering his history, but Derek reminded himself that he wasn't Kate, and never would be. More importantly, Derek thought about Thomas, and the relationship that was building between them. Stiles was a good guy, and maybe in a different point in Derek's life he might consider it, but right now it didn't fit.

Boyd came into the kitchen looking for Erica, so she left Derek to fend for himself. Thinking about Thomas made Derek want to talk to him, so he grabbed a cold beer out of the fridge and went into the living room to head out to the porch so he could call him. There were a couple people watching TV, but Scott and Stiles were gone. Derek touched the handle to the sliding glass door when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Thomas was calling so Derek quickly picked up. 

“Hey, I was just thinking about you,” Derek said as he slid the door open and stepped outside. He turned around once he saw the huge crowd standing around smoking. 

“Were you now?” Thomas drawled, his words slow and syrupy. 

Derek laughed and asked, “You drunk?”

“Maybe,” Thomas said, drawing the word out. “Were they dirty thoughts?” He asked, giggling.

“Actually no,” Derek said. “But I can fix that.” He looked around him to see who was nearby, and finding himself alone, went down the hall to the guest bedroom. 

“Are you drunk?” Thomas asked, and Derek heard a strange echoing noise in the background.

Derek found the guest room empty so he slipped inside and locked the door behind him. 

“Maybe,” he said, smiling at Thomas' answering giggle. “I'm at a party. My friend and her husband's house, a bunch of us from school.”

“Oh, that sound like fun,” Thomas said. “You wanna get back to it?”

“Not really,” Derek replied. “I'd rather talk to you.”

“Aww, you're so sweet to me,” Thomas teased. 

Derek toed his shoes off and flopped on the bed. His cheeks reddened at Thomas' remark. 

“It's the truth. I would always rather be talking to you.”

“Don't you have some drunk and disorderly students to watch after?” Thomas asked.

“They're adults,” Derek answered as he fiddled with the fringe on the blanket at the end of the bed. “They can watch over themselves. Well...” Derek thought about Stiles and his teacher crush.

Thomas hummed in question.

“Remember that one student I told you about?” Derek asked. “The one who told me I'm the reason they came to this school?”

“Yeah,” Thomas said. “The one that totally has a crush on you.”

Derek rolled over on his side and tucked the phone between his cheek and the pillow. 

“It's funny you say that,” he said. “Because I think you might be right.”

Thomas didn't respond. 

“Thomas?” Derek asked. He hoped Thomas didn't think Derek was interested in someone else.

“Will you tell me your real name?” Thomas asked quietly.

Derek was taken aback by the change in subject, but didn't think it mattered much.  
“Derek. I'm Derek.”

“Hi, Derek,” Thomas said. “I like that. It's sexy.” 

Derek wanted to ask Thomas about his real name, but he held his tongue. If Thomas wanted to tell him, he'd offer. 

“Now I know what to scream out when I'm jerking off to you,” Thomas said.

“You do that a lot?” Derek asked, slipping his hand into his pants where his dick was already hardening. 

“Every fucking day,” Thomas replied. “Right now, actually. And I'm already getting close, so you better catch up.”

Derek's cock jumped at Thomas' words and he tugged roughly on himself, moving around on the bed to get better leverage. 

Thomas talked Derek through a quick and sloppy hand job and Derek came without even taking off his pants, fortunately with enough mind to catch the come in his hand so he didn't ruin his briefs. 

There weren't any tissues in the room so Derek told Thomas to hold a minute so he could go wash his hands. He left the phone on the bed to go to the bathroom across the hall, but the door was locked when he tried the handle.

Derek pounded on the door with his clean hand. “Hey, you gonna be long?” he asked. He hated to be rude, but he _really_ did not want someone to see him in the hallway with a handful of come. 

The door was yanked back and Derek found himself face-to-face with a much disheveled Stiles. Derek hid his dirty hand behind his back and smiled weakly at him. 

“Sorry, I just...” Derek trailed off as he eyed the sink. 

Stiles stared at Derek, his eyes wide and glassy before blinking quickly and shaking his head. He shuffled past Derek to let him in the bathroom, hands flat on Derek's chest as he moved sideways. A wet pink tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip and Derek tracked the movement.

Derek slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He washed up quickly and when he opened the door again, found Stiles leaning against the door to the guest bedroom. 

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek said, not really wanting to waste any more time getting back to Thomas on the phone. He felt bad pushing Stiles away like this, but hoped he would understand. 

“I've got someone on the phone in there, if you don't mind.” He pointed to the door.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles said. 

The way he said Derek's name, voice deep and smooth in a way Stiles' never was, made something light up inside Derek. His pulse raced as he stood there staring at Stiles, unmoving from the door. Derek looked at Stiles, really looked at him this time. The unkempt hair, red splotchy cheeks, and wet cherry-red lips made Stiles look well and truly fucked out. Derek's dick gave a valiant twitch in his pants at this revelation. He was confused at his reaction, and he really wanted to get back to Thomas.

Putting a hand on Stiles' shoulder, Derek pulled Stiles forward from the door and said, “I'm sorry.”

Stiles moved with Derek's hand and leaned in close as they switched positions. He tilted his head and rubbed his nose along the side of Derek's neck. 

“It's okay,” Stiles said softly.

Derek shivered violently and he gripped onto Stiles' shoulder. 

“Stiles...”

“It's okay,” Stiles repeated as he pulled Derek's hand off his shoulder and moved away. He gave Derek a small smile and turned around.

Derek watched Stiles walk down the hallway before opening the door to the bedroom. Seeing the phone lying on the bed he leaped across the room to grab it, hoping Thomas was still on the other line.

“Thomas?” Derek asked tentatively.

“I'm here, Derek,” Thomas responded. 

“Good,” Derek said, lying on his back. “Sorry it took so long.” He thought he'd leave out the part about running into Stiles.

“No worries,” Thomas said. 

The sudden overwhelming urge to see Thomas, actually see him in person struck Derek, and it was like a physical ache. 

“I want to see you,” Derek said. “I need to.”

Thomas sighed deeply and said, “Soon. I promise.”

They talked about small things for a few more minutes before they hung up, only after more promises from Thomas that they would meet in person soon. Derek felt light and happy at this, he couldn't think of anything better than being able to see and touch and taste Thomas; to have all of that in front of him.

Derek left the guest room and walked out to the living room to find that most people had left the party. The crowd outside was gone and there were a couple people asleep on the couch, Scott being one of them. The lights in the kitchen were off and Derek thought that Erica and Boyd may already be in bed themselves. Derek stepped into the kitchen looking for a bottle of water and found Stiles standing in the dark by himself. 

“Hey, again,” Derek said as he opened the fridge to pull out a couple bottles of water. He handed one to Stiles as he cracked the lid on his own. “Are you staying here? I saw Scott asleep on the couch.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Stiles said after he finished almost half the bottle. “I’m way too drunk to drive myself home, and too cheap to get a cab.” He laughed as he put the cap back on. “Guess I'll have to get cozy with the floor tonight.”

Derek frowned when he realized that with the couch taken and him in the guest bedroom, there was no where left to sleep. 

“You can share the guest bed with me,” Derek offered. “I don't want you to have to sleep on the floor, and the bed's plenty big.”

Stiles' eyes went wide. “Oh, no, that's... you don't have to do that.” 

“I insist,” Derek said. They'd be sharing a room soon enough at the conference, and he knew once his head hit the pillow he'd be out. “Plus, I don't want to hear you bitching about your back later.” He smirked at Stiles and got a loud chuckle in response.

“All right,” Stiles said. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” 

They finished their waters and left the kitchen. Derek stopped in the bathroom to wash his face and take a piss before going back into the bedroom, where Stiles had taken his jeans off, draped over a chair in the corner, and was already tucked into bed. Derek removed his own pants and laid them next to Stiles' before getting under the covers himself. He reached up to turn off the lamp next to the bed and settled in. 

Derek tried to fall asleep but his thoughts swirled between snippets of his conversation with Thomas and the odd moments with Stiles. His reactions to Stiles tonight were not something he was sure he felt comfortable exploring any further, so he focused as much as he could on Thomas and what it might be like when they met. 

After what felt like an eternity of imagining all the different scenarios in which their meeting could go horribly wrong, Derek cleared his throat and turned his head.

“Stiles?” he asked softly. “You still awake?”

Stiles shifted and Derek could feel the bed dip down. 

“Yeah, I'm awake.” He must have been having just as much trouble getting to sleep because he didn't sound the least bit groggy.

“Are you dating anyone?” Derek asked, and then cringed because that was not how he meant to start this conversation. “I mean... you've been in a relationship before, right?”

Stiles cleared his throat and was silent for a few beats before he responded, “Yeah, I have been.” 

When Stiles didn't elaborate further, Derek got worried. 

“Sorry, maybe this is inappropriate to be talking to you about this.”

“No, dude,” Stiles said, laughing. “It's seriously okay. Look, I know you're a pretty private person and don't share stuff that often, but most all of us in the department talk about all sorts of shit. You can talk to me.”

Derek smiled. He was a private person, and he was glad Stiles understood and respected that about him. Stiles was probably the only person besides Erica and Boyd he could talk to about this, and Derek was still unsure how Erica would react to him practically dating someone he met on a phone sex line.

“Have you ever met somebody on the phone or online first?” Derek asked. “Like, started your relationship before seeing each other in person?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Stiles answered.

Derek shifted around to face Stiles. 

“And when you finally met in person, what was it like? Were you happy with the way it went?”

“It never got to that point actually,” Stiles replied. “Why do you wanna know?”

Derek flushed and he was so grateful for the darkness. 

“I'm in this... relationship... with someone,” Derek stammered out uncomfortably. “And so far it's only been on the phone and texts. But I told him tonight I want to meet him in person.”

“What are you worried about?” Stiles asked.

All of the self-conscious worries jumbled around in Derek's head. 

“I'm scared he's not going to like me when he sees me in person,” Derek admitted, his throat tight with doubt. “I'm scared he has this idea of me in his head and it's going to be proven wrong when we meet.”

“Are you saying you're worried he won't think you're hot?” Stiles asked teasingly.

“No... That sounds so shallow, but I guess so,” Derek said. “Or that I won't be what he imagined, and he won't want to see me again. Like you said, I'm a private person, but I'm more open on the phone, and I have a tendency to clam up in front of someone.”

“Okay, so let me get it out of the way that there is absolutely no way anyone could meet you in person and ever be disappointed in what they see,” Stiles said, and Derek's cheeks burned in response. “But shallow stuff aside, what's your relationship like with him now, over the phone? Are you close?”

“Yeah, we are. We talk every day, and about everything. Even... um,” Derek trailed off.

“Sexy things?” Stiles asked and he reached out to poke Derek in the chest. “You have some bangin' phone sex? Pun definitely intended.”

Derek held his tongue at how incredibly spot on Stiles was. “Maybe,” Derek said and Stiles burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the otherwise deathly quiet house.

“Well that sounds like a ringing endorsement,” Stiles said, still puffing out small breaths of air in laughter. “But, seriously, if you guys really like each other, it shouldn't matter what it's like when you first meet in person. Just because you might be a bit shy or awkward at first, I'm sure he'll understand. And if he doesn't, then honestly, he's not fucking worth it in the first place, Derek.”

Stiles sounded so confident and so sure of everything, and Derek envied that ability to not care about what other people thought, not care about the rejection he feared may come. Stiles was like Thomas in that way, so able to make Derek see the ways in which life didn't have to be as bad as he worried it could be. That was probably why Derek felt so comfortable talking to Stiles about this; it was easy. Maybe that explained his reactions to him earlier, because Stiles reminded him of Thomas. 

“You remind me of him,” Derek found himself saying. 

“Your, uh... guy?” Stiles asked. 

“Yeah,” Derek replied. “His name's Thomas. You two would probably get along pretty well.”

“Oh, thanks,” Stiles said, and Derek watched the fuzzy outline of Stiles' arm raise up to rub across his face. “I'll take that as a compliment, seeing as he's dating you.”

Derek felt guilt twist in his stomach, remembering what Erica said earlier. If Stiles really did have a crush on Derek then this conversation must have been pretty painful for Stiles, and now Derek felt like a total asshole. Derek murmured, “Thanks,” unsure of how to apologize, if he even needed to. It wasn't like Stiles had ever said anything directly to him, and he seemed to be fine while they were talking.

“Hey,” Stiles started. “Since we are kinda on this topic, can you tell me if Isaac is single? I wanna know for, uh... a friend.”

So maybe it wasn't Derek that Stiles had a crush on. Maybe he was really kind of awkward and nervous and got a little bit too handsy when he was buzzed. 

“I think so,” Derek replied.

“Cool,” Stiles said. “Does he like guys?”

“He does,” Derek said, thinking of Isaac's comments about Scott the other week. 

“Awesome,” Stiles replied. “Thanks, man.”

Stiles remained silent for a moment before stretching and yawning loudly. Derek felt him shift and turn around to face away and Derek figured their conversation was over. He turned back over himself and closed his eyes. His mind now blissfully free of worries, he went to sleep fast.

~~~~

Stiles snored loudly from his place on Derek's shoulder as the voice in the overhead system let them know they would be in Los Angeles in twenty minutes. Derek shifted carefully in his seat to get comfortable without waking Stiles as he flicked to the next page in his book on his e-reader. 

Talking a mile-a-minute once they boarded the train, Stiles swore that he could never fall asleep in a moving vehicle. After the first couple of hours Derek watched as Stiles started to nod off mid-conversation, head jerking up as his chin touched his chest, mumbling nonsense as he tried to remember what he had been talking about. The third time it happened instead of waking himself up, Stiles slumped over towards Derek, and Derek maneuvered Stiles so his head rested on his shoulder. Stiles had slept soundly for the rest of the trip, breath loud and constant in Derek's ear.

In the weeks since Erica's party, Derek and Stiles spent more time together, in the way that some people do after they've had an intimate conversation. A sort of bond formed and they spent most weekdays having lunch together and discussing their research and other more personal topics: weekends Derek spent with the department, movie nights at Isaac or Erica's places, late nights at one of the dive bars only grad students and professors frequented. Weeknights were spent on the phone with Thomas in-between clients, and sometimes, enthusiastically, during. Saturdays and Sundays they texted and sent each other dirty voicemails. There was one particularly memorable Sunday afternoon where they tried out Snapchat for the first time and sent filthier and filthier photos of their dicks while they jerked off. Suffice it to say Derek was _really_ looking forward to meeting Thomas and he promised that they would do so after Derek got back from Los Angeles.

Regular meetings in Derek's office helped solidify Stiles' confidence in his work, especially in his upcoming talk at the conference. Derek was so incredibly proud of how far Stiles had come. He knew that Stiles' topic and his original and unique views would send a shock wave through their colleagues, and Derek couldn't wait to be there in person to see their reactions. 

When the announcer let them know they would be pulling into the station in five minutes, Derek placed his hand flat on Stiles' chest and gently shook him awake. Stiles rubbed his forehead roughly into Derek's shoulder as he mumbled and smacked his lips together. He sat up slow and groggy, rubbed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes.

Stiles focused first on Derek before eying Derek's shoulder. 

“Omigawd, did I drool on you?” Stiles squawked. 

Derek twisted his head to find a small wet spot in the blue cotton of his shirt. He shrugged and said, “I guess so. Not a big deal, though.”

Stiles put his head in his hands dramatically. “I'll never be able to live this down,” he wailed.

Derek laughed loudly and put his hand on Stiles' shoulder, squeezing the lean muscles underneath. 

“Don't be such a drama queen,” he said, and smiled as he watched Stiles lower his hands and wink, all pretense dropped.

“Seriously, though dude,” Stiles said, standing up to grab their bags from the overhead bins. “I am sorry about that, it's kinda gross.”

Derek reached out to grab the bags from Stiles' hands and set them on the floor. 

“It's only spit; I've had worse on my shirt.”

Stiles coughed and fell back into his chair. 

“Holy shit, warn a guy before you make a comment like that,” he told Derek. 

Derek winked back.

They got off the train and followed the crowd through the gates to find a cab. It was late, way past dinner, and they were both starving. Hopefully there was a place near the hotel they could walk to after they checked in, because room service was out of both their budgets. They lucked out and once they dropped their bags in the room, they crossed the street and grabbed a couple burritos from the little restaurant with a cartoon taco on the front window.

That sat in silence as they devoured their food, broken only by Stiles' teenager-like moans and lip smacking as he stuffed the burrito into his mouth faster than Derek thought humanly possible. 

When Stiles got up to toss his garbage in the trash, Derek asked, “You ready for tomorrow?”

Stiles unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out a shirt and sleep pants. 

“I think so,” he told Derek. He paused on his way to the bathroom and glanced at Derek, his expression closed-off and guarded. “Do you think I am?”

Derek set the food aside and got up from his bed. He walked over to Stiles and put his hands on Stiles' shoulders, looked him in the eyes. 

“You're going to blow them away tomorrow,” Derek said. 

Stiles' smile lit up his face. “Yeah?” he asked Derek.

“Yeah,” Derek said, and then released Stiles' shoulders to pull him into a quick hug. 

Derek went to finish his dinner as Stiles walked to the bathroom, a healthy flush running up the back of his neck.

~~~~

“Next on the agenda, discussing the...” the moderator droned on, announcing the next speaker as they walked on stage.

Stiles fiddled with his flash drive, flipping it around in his hands, long fingers twirling and twirling the small piece of plastic in a circle. 

Derek slapped his hand over Stiles' and leaned over the whisper, “Calm down, you'll be fine.”

Bouncing his heels now after stilling his hands, Stiles responds quietly, “I'm gonna barf. I'm gonna get up behind that podium, and I'm gonna barf.”

“You've done this before,” Derek told him. “And you've never messed up. Why are you so worried this time?”

“I don't know,” Stiles said, and he rubbed his head across his forehead. “I think it's because this is my dissertation topic, and I have a feeling people are going to freak out and yell at me in the middle of it. Call me a crackpot or something.”

Derek smirked at Stiles. “I would think you'd love that,” he told Stiles. “Start up a heated discussion.”

“Normally I would,” Stiles replied, licked his lips as he kept fidgeting. “But the leading expert on this topic is here today, and I don't want to fuck up.”

Derek opened his mouth to respond cheekily that _he_ was the leading expert in that topic when Stiles turned to look at him, face pale and sweaty. 

“You,” Stiles said. “I don't want to fuck up in front of you, okay?”

Derek was taken aback, confused by this sudden turn in Stiles' mood. He thought everything they had discussed before the trip had boosted Stiles' self-esteem, assured him that he was just as knowledgeable, if not more so, than Derek.

Before Derek could offer assurances of any worth, the crowd erupted in applause around them, signaling the end of the current speaker's talk. 

“Fuck,” Stiles swore under his breath. He smiled tightly at Derek and said, “Wish me luck,” then got up to head to the front of the room near the stage. 

The current speaker was still taking questions so there would probably be a few more minutes before Stiles would actually have to take the stage. Derek tried to grab Stiles' attention so he could give him a signal or wave, something to let him know everything was going to go well; something to help calm him down. Stiles wouldn't look at him though, kept scanning the room nervously, eyes flitting around.

Derek felt terrible that it seemed to be his fault that Stiles was so nervous all the sudden, but he couldn't think of anything to fix it. He wasn't planning on heckling Stiles during his talk or asking any asshole-ish questions afterward, and he already knew the main points of topic Stiles would be discussing. Unsure of what to do, he pulled out his phone and opened his texts to find his conversation with Thomas.

_My student is about to go on stage and give his talk and he's terrified, and I think it's my fault. Because for some reason he thinks that I'm going to call him out on something or embarrass him in front of our colleagues, when in reality, once he gives this talk he's going to embarrass me. He's so fucking smart and I'm so fucking proud of him and I want him to SEE that, KNOW that. Thomas, I don't know what to do. How can I make him see what I see? - D_

Derek pressed send on the text and looked back up at Stiles to check if he was looking his way. Instead of glancing around the room like before, Stiles was busy pulling his phone out of his pocket. Derek watched as Stiles slid his fingers over the phone screen, the long digits graceful as they flew over the gadget. Stiles' eyes tracked back and forth fast and then suddenly all the color he had lost came flooding back, a bright cherry-red flush climbing up his slender neck and into his cheeks. He glanced up and met Derek's eyes, mouth wide open and slack. 

Derek's heart dropped into his stomach. He looked down at his phone to the text he sent, and then back up to Stiles, who was still staring at him, eyes glinting in the lights from the projector next to him. Then Stiles smiled at Derek and it felt like it would blind him, and he knew.

He knew that the stranger that had grown into a friend and more had been someone he'd already known and trusted. Derek knew that the confident guy who could coax the most mind-numbingly incredible orgasms from his body was the slightly awkward, clumsy student who had been stumbling into Derek's office for years. The positive and optimistic man who finally convinced Derek to step out of his shell and back into the world was the nervous and self-conscious pupil in a cold sweat beside him only minutes ago. 

And he knew that the person he had fallen in love with wasn't a faceless mystery, but was right beside him the whole time.

Derek was numb as he heard the crowd around him applaud again, sounding as if in a tunnel. He gripped his phone tight as he watched Stiles give him a thumbs up before climbing the small staircase onto the stage, walking up to the podium. Derek’s heart beat loudly in his chest as he followed Stiles’ every movement: setting up the laptop in front of him, chatting nonchalantly with the audience as he waited for his slides to come up on the screen, hands gesticulating wildly. He sat in a fog during the entire talk, only catching a small phrase here and there, ears perking as Stiles said Derek's name, referencing his past works. 

Derek missed the Q&A entirely, his mind whirring and tumbling over every conversation he'd had with Thomas, finding clues and coincidences everywhere, all of them obvious to him now. It wasn't until someone grabbed him by the arm that Derek turned to find Stiles standing leaning over him.

“We're leaving,” Stiles said, “right now.” He yanked Derek up by his arm, tugged him down the aisle to the doors in the back of the room. Derek let himself be guided, pulled into the rush of the crowd outside. He focused on the feel of Stiles' hand grasping his arm, the skin warm and comforting on his own. Stiles spun Derek around and he found they were in a nook by the lobby, a quiet and dark space cut off from the noise of the rest of the hotel. 

“I'm sorry,” Stiles said, crowding up against him, his hands coming up to wrap around the back of Derek's neck. “I can't wait until we get back to our room.”

Stiles surged forward and pressed his lips to Derek's in a fevered, hurried kiss. Derek's brain finally caught up to what was happening and he tilted his head as he sucked Stiles' bottom lip into his mouth, pulled on the soft, pliant flesh until Stiles let out a moan, the sound vibrating against his tongue. He released Stiles' lip and slid his tongue into Stiles' mouth, lips parting easily as Derek licked his way inside. Derek rubbed his hands down the flat plane of Stiles' back until he reached his ass, fingers spreading and squeezing as he pulled Stiles closer to him. 

Stiles pulled back from the kiss suddenly, his lips wet with saliva and bright pink. 

“We need to talk about this,” he told Derek in between harsh breaths. 

Derek darted forward to plant small, sweet kisses around Stiles mouth. 

“You were the one who dragged me over here and attacked me with your mouth,” Derek said before nipping again at Stiles' bottom lip, loving how red and swollen it was now.

“I had to do something,” Stiles said, and he smiled brightly. “You have no idea how hard it was to focus during my talk. All I could think about was what you said, how proud of me you were. How desperately you wanted to help me see that.”

“Why now?” Derek asked. “What not anytime before?”

“You mean why did I choose now to let you know it's been me this whole time?” Stiles asked with a sigh. “I didn't, not really. I was so fucking nervous and stressed out standing up there I had no hope of schooling my reaction like I've been able to do before. I was going to tell you though, after my talk, before we went back home.”

Derek rubbed wide strokes over Stiles' back and said, “Why don't we go upstairs and you can tell me everything, okay?”

Stiles nodded and Derek led them out to the lobby towards the elevators, pressing the button for their floor once they stepped inside. The elevator was crowded so they couldn't speak much, but Derek felt Stiles' hand slip into his as they waited to reach their floor. 

They were the last to exit the elevator and they walked hand-in-hand down the quiet hallway to their room. Stiles hummed a tune that Derek couldn't place as he swung their hands playfully. Derek stopped in front of their door and tugged Stiles in for a quick kiss before he slid two fingers into his pocket to find the key card. He opened the door and motioned for Stiles to go ahead of him.

Stiles emptied his pockets and sat down on the edge of his bed, patted the bedspread next to him for Derek to join him. Derek complied and twined their fingers together.

“So, where do I start?” Stiles asked, nervous laughter bubbling out of him. “Ah, just so you know, I didn't know it was you until that night out at the bar. You said something to me about how a friend convinced you to come out that night, and the way you phrased it was almost exactly how I'd said it to you on the phone. And then when I got up and we were texting each other, I knew it was you.”

“Why didn't you say anything right then?” Derek asked. “I'm not mad, so please don't think I am. I just... I don't know we could have been doing this a while ago.” He pointed his finger at himself then at Stiles.

Stiles rubbed his face with his free hand. 

“I wasn't ready,” he told Derek, frowning. “I've been in this program for five years, and I've had a crush on you since basically the first day; before I met you, if I'm being honest. I meant it when I said you were the reason I came to study here. I've had such a major academic boner for you forever.” 

Derek laughed and asked, “Academic boner? You made that up.”

“So?” Stiles said as he laughed. “You know what I mean. And when I started the program and met you, it got worse, because you’re so hot, I had no idea you'd be so fucking hot. And then my crush got worse. You were always so humble and eloquent and it was terrible. And to top it all off no matter how much I tried to impress you or talk to you about my studies it always seemed...” Stiles stopped and shrugged. 

“It always seemed what?” Derek asked. He squeezed Stiles' hand in a way he hoped was reassuring.

Stiles' frown deepened as he replied, “I don't know, like you thought I was an idiot, or that I was annoying. Every time I came to your office it seemed like you couldn't wait for me to leave. So many times after I turned in a paper I would barely get any critique back from you, like you hadn't even read it.”

“Stiles,” Derek began, and he sighed. He had no idea his social awkwardness had been upsetting Stiles in such a personal way. 

“I've never thought you were an idiot or annoying. Yes, you tend to leave things to the last minute, and I personally think that's a really bad way to work, but you seem to always manage to pull it off. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you were unwelcome in my office, but it wasn't anything personal, I'm really fucking awkward sometimes and it comes off as me being a dick. And the reason I never gave you much critique is because your papers were nearly perfect.”

Stiles looked over at Derek with his mouth open in surprise, his eyebrows scrunched together like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

“You're my best student,” Derek continued. “Not right now, but ever. I've never seen someone so naturally gifted yet so incredibly lazy at the same time. But you pull it off, you always do. It amazes me. I told you this a little while ago, and I'll tell you this for as long as you need to hear it, I'm your advisor and I'm here to help you whenever you need it. Please don't ever be afraid to tell me how you feel.”

Derek watched a flush creep back into Stiles' cheeks as he ducked his head and muttered out a quiet, “Thanks.”

“So is that why you didn't say anything when you figured it out?” Derek asked. “Because you had a crush on me and you thought I thought you were annoying?” He frowned, hating that he had made Stiles so uncomfortable, that he had been afraid of telling Derek the truth.

“Basically,” Stiles said. “I knew you liked me as Thomas, but I needed to make sure you liked me as Stiles too. And then after the party when we talked, it sort of dragged out. See, my phone sex personality is still me, and what I feel is the _perfect_ version of me, everything I want to be but am usually too nervous or awkward to actually pull off. When I'm on the phone it's so easy to be confident and sexy. But I can't always be like that. I'm not always perfect and I wanted to make sure you liked the version of me too.”

Derek let go of Stiles' hand and cupped his face. 

“Stiles, I love you when you're confident and sexy,” he said as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over Stiles' bottom lip. “And I love when you're awkward and clumsy and ridiculously smart. I love every version of you.”

Stiles blinked several times before saying, “You love me?” 

Not even realizing he'd used those words, but knowing they were true, Derek simply said, “I do.”

Stiles threw his arms around Derek and tucked his head into Derek's neck. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles and held on, placed a kiss on Stiles' neck behind his ear. 

“I am so fucking in love with you,” Stiles said and Derek laughed, warmth flowing strong and sure through his veins. 

“Why don't we try some of those things we've talked about on the phone?” Derek asked.

Stiles leaned back and gave Derek a lewd smile. 

“That table over there looks pretty sturdy,” he told Derek. “You wanna fuck me over it?”

Derek smiled and slid his hands to the buttons on the front of Stiles' shirt. He began unbuttoning them as he said, “You know, we never did get me a dildo. I think I'd rather have the real thing.”

“That was terribly cheesy,” Stiles said as he helped Derek with his shirt. “But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna fuck you straight into the mattress.”

Stiles pushed Derek backwards on the bed and climbed over him, knees on either side of Derek's hips. He placed a wet and filthy kiss on Derek's mouth before moving to his neck and sucking a bruise into the delicate skin peppered with stubble. 

Derek arched beneath Stiles and groaned, combed his fingers through Stiles' hair and tugged him up for another kiss. Stiles pulled Derek's hand off his head and pressed it to the bed, giving Derek a look that told him he should keep still. Traveling down Derek's chest, Stiles thumbed his buttons open, following each new exposure of bare skin with a kiss. He dragged his teeth over the trail of hair leading into Derek's pants as he unbuckled the belt and pulled the leather through its hoops, flicked the button open and pulled the zipper down. Stiles looked up at Derek with a quick smile before licking a long wet stripe over Derek's cock, the cotton of his briefs soaking through from Stiles' tongue.

Stiles sat up on his haunches and grabbed onto the waist of Derek's pants and briefs. He pulled both off in one go and flung the clothes across the room. Leaning over to press a kiss to the inside of Derek's thigh he mumbled, “I've been waiting to get my mouth on you for so long.”

Derek threaded his fingers through Stiles' hair again as Stiles took Derek fully into his mouth, sliding down until he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Stiles' throat. Derek swore and held his hips still, not wanting to buck up into Stiles' mouth and make him choke.

Stiles pulled off Derek's cock and took a deep breath, wrapped his lips over the head and sucked, cheeks hollowing, tongue massaging the frenulum. Derek wondered for a moment why Stiles thought he normally wasn't confident or sexy because this was already the best fucking blow job he'd ever had. Stiles alternated between taking all of Derek's length down his throat and sucking on the head, long fingers wrapped around the base. He only broke rhythm once to reach up and place a kiss on Derek's hip, before moving down once again to take Derek in his mouth. 

Derek felt himself getting close, felt the familiar tightness build inside, and he didn't want to come, not yet. He groaned out, “Stiles,” his voice raw and deep. 

Stiles looked up and flicked his tongue in a way that made Derek jump in response. 

“Derek,” he said, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock. 

“You need to stop if you don't want me to come yet,” Derek said as he rubbed his thumb over Stiles' cheek. 

Stiles pouted and said, “Maybe I do.”

“But you promised to fuck me,” Derek said. As much as he wanted to see Stiles' face painted prettily with his come, he really wanted Stiles to be inside him when he did. 

Placing one last kiss on Derek's cock, Stiles sat up and crawled up his chest to lean down and give him a kiss. Derek slid his tongue into Stiles' mouth, chasing after the taste of himself on Stiles’ tongue. 

Stiles pushed up to a sitting position and said, “Condoms and lube,” before climbing off Derek's lap and off the bed towards his bag. 

Derek laughed and asked, “Confident this weekend was going to go well?”

Stiles came back to the bed and said, “Not confidence so much as hope.”

Derek chuckled and watched as Stiles tossed the supplies on the bed and started to take the rest of his clothes off. Shirt gone and belt unbuckled, Stiles shoved his pants to the floor with his briefs and stepped out of them. His long, thick, cock was curved towards his stomach, a drop of pre-come beaded at the tip. Derek licked his lips as he thought of tasting Stiles. 

Stiles climbed on the bed and hooked his elbows under Derek's thighs and spread his legs. He said, “Just let me...” and trailed off as he dipped his head down to take one of Derek's balls into his mouth, rolling it around gently, massaging it with his tongue. Derek flung his head back at the sensation and rolled his hips. Stiles let go with a quiet _pop_ and repeated it with the other one. Once he released Derek from his mouth again, Derek was shaking, feeling overwhelmed. Stiles licked his lips and Derek groaned at the sight before begging, “Please, Stiles.” 

“I've got you,” Stiles said, and he reached out to grab the bottle of lube. He slicked his fingers and let it warm in his hand for a moment, kissing along Derek's thighs while he waited. 

Derek felt Stiles slide a single finger inside him, forced himself to relax around it. It had been so long since someone else had been inside him, and Derek had forgotten how vulnerable it made him feel, splayed open and completely at their mercy. He loved how comfortable and calm he felt with Stiles, how much he trusted Stiles to take care of him. 

Stiles added another finger and started sucking a bruise into the inside of Derek's thigh. Derek bucked his hips up as Stiles worked his fingers in and out, stuttering when they brushed by his prostate. Sweat started to bead on Derek's forehead once Stiles added a third, his fingers moving faster, fucking into Derek.

“That's enough,” Derek panted out. He wanted Stiles inside him and he was tired of waiting. “Please, Stiles.” He felt around for a condom and handed it to Stiles.

Stiles tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom onto his cock. 

“I want to face you,” Stiles said, his expression suddenly unsure. “Is that okay?”

“It's perfect,” Derek said and held out his arms. 

Stiles leaned forward and braced himself on his elbows beside Derek's face. Balancing on one arm, he reached down and lined himself up at Derek's hole, looking up once as if to gain permission. In response Derek grabbed onto Stiles' ass and pulled him forward. Stiles' cock pushed through the tight ring of muscle and they both groaned as he slid inside Derek. He settled himself as he let Derek adjust, kissed Derek's lips and nipped at his jaw. 

Derek tilted his hips up and Stiles took the cue, moving slowly at first, fucking into Derek with long, smooth strokes that began to drive Derek mad. He needed more from Stiles right now, needed something more intense to match the emotions from earlier today. Derek wanted everything with Stiles and all at once; he felt impatient and needy. He dug his nails into the soft flesh of Stiles' ass, receiving a hard thrust in response. Derek swore and Stiles moved faster, hips snapping forward, making the bed begin to creak under their movement. He kept massaging Stiles' ass as he fucked Derek, and he spread him open, fingers brushing softly over Stiles' hole.

“Ah... fuck, Derek,” Stiles stammered out as he buried his head into the crook of Derek's neck.

Derek got an idea and reached out beside him, fumbling around until his fingers found the plastic bottle. One-handed he spilled some of the cold gel onto his fingers and rubbed them together to warm it. Holding Stiles' cheeks open as well as he could with his other hand, Derek rubbed his slick fingers over his hole. He pressed a finger inside and Stiles _keened_ , fucked into Derek with a hard, stuttering thrust.

“Oh god,” Stiles panted. “Yes, yes, please.”

Derek added a second finger and fucked Stiles with them as Stiles fucked him. Nobody had ever tried this on him before, but he could imagine that it felt pretty fucking amazing. Derek wrapped his free arm tight around Stiles' waist as he moved his fingers faster. Stiles’ rhythm faltered and his arms shook as they tried to keep him up. 

Derek slipped his fingers out of Stiles' ass and Stiles protested wordlessly, collapsed down onto one elbow, his sweaty chest pressed against Derek's. Derek wrapped his other arm around Stiles' waist and flipped them over in one motion. Stiles head landed on a pillow and he looked up at Derek, eyes wide in surprise. He groaned as Derek climbed off of Stiles, his cock sliding out with a crude sound. 

“Where are you going?” Stiles asked and he reached out for Derek. Derek smiled at him and he grabbed for another condom from the pile, and Stiles swore once he figured out what Derek was doing.

Derek tore open the wrapper and covered his own cock, dripped lube onto himself, fingers rubbing through the mess to spread it around. He grabbed onto Stiles' hip and said, “Turn over. Ass in the air.”

“Fuck,” Stiles said as he turned over, limbs shaky. “Fuck, god, Derek, this is so fucking hot.” He climbed onto his knees and thrust his ass up.

Derek wiped the excess mess on his hand into the sheets and laid a heavy smack on Stiles' ass. Stiles cried out and Derek spread him open, watched his hole clench under his fingers. He rubbed his length over it, listened to Stiles' wordless pleads under him, before pressing the tip downwards with his fingers, pushing through the rim. Tight, wet, heat surrounded him, squeezed Derek as he slid inside of Stiles, only stopping once he was fully seated. He gave Stiles a moment to adjust before pulling out almost completely, leaving only the head of his cock inside, just enough to stretch Stiles' hole further, watch it tighten around him. Derek thrust back inside as he pulled Stiles' hips towards him. Stiles' arms shot out in front of him to brace him against the headboard as Derek fucked into him, hard and fast and exactly the way he wanted it. Only a few moments went by before Stiles started to fall apart underneath Derek, rubbing his forehead into the sheets, a constant stream of moans and curses falling from his lips as he let Derek take control. 

When Derek could feel himself getting close he leaned over Stiles' back and kissed his shoulder before wrapping a hand around Stiles' leaking cock. A couple tight pulls and Stiles was coming with a shout, spilling over Derek's fingers. He started to collapse into his own mess but Derek caught him and turned him over to a dry part of the bed, pulling out of him as he did so. Derek tore the condom off himself with his clean hand and began to stroke his cock with the one covered in Stiles' come, the slickness loud in the silence of their hotel room. Stiles lay on his back breathing hard, eyes darting from Derek's face to his dick, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Derek doubled over and came hard, striping up and down Stiles' chest and over his messy, spent cock. With his last remaining strength Derek bent over and licked at their combined mess on Stiles' stomach, cleaning him as best he could.

Derek had enough mind to not fall on top of Stiles and flopped down on his back next to him. Stiles rolled over and kissed him on the cheek, then settled into Derek's side. Thoughts ran through Derek's mind of getting a washcloth to clean the properly, but he drifted off into sleep instead.

~~~~

_Six months later_

Stiles fiddled with his hood as he climbed into the car, trying not to get it stuck in the door.

“Dude,” he said as he turned to Derek, eyes bright. “I'm a fucking doctor now.”

“You are,” Derek said as he kissed Stiles, remembering the pride that swelled in his heart after watching Stiles walk across the stage today, standing up to shake his hand and drape the doctoral hood over him. “I'm so proud of you.”

“I know you are,” Stiles said and he kissed Derek back, a hint of tongue sliding over Derek's lips. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Derek said. 

“We all love everybody,” Erica said from the backseat. “But that ain't gonna get us to dinner any quicker. Now, move it, Hale.”

Stiles snickered as Derek put the car into park and backed out of the parking spot, heading to the celebratory dinner for Stiles and Lydia. 

After Derek and Stiles had returned from LA they decided to tell everyone that they were together. No one was all that surprised, least of all Erica and Scott. Stiles had apparently told Scott everything before Derek even found out, and Stiles' friend was ecstatic to hear that they had worked it out.

Derek promised Stiles that they could look for an apartment together after he graduated and figured out where he wanted to apply for a job. Stiles didn't know that Derek had already gone to the department head on Stiles' behalf to basically beg for an assistant professor position. It had taken some convincing but after the reception at the conference in Los Angeles, Stiles had his pick from several offers already, and the department head decided she didn't want to share the talent with another university, so she caved.

“You've gotta call me Dr. Stilinski from now on,” Stiles said with a cheeky grin. 

Derek snorted and said under his breath, “There is only one situation outside work that I'll be calling you by that title.” 

Stiles eyes widened and his lips formed into an ‘O’ shape, winking at Derek and turning on the radio.

Erica groaned and said, “Thanks, I don't want hear about your gross sex life anyway.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on my [tumblr](http://aeneapsych.tumblr.com) :D


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